Cinders in the Ashtray
by Amour en Rayures
Summary: Everything changes with time, including the very fiber of Matt and Mello's relationship. Things become more difficult to work through, but it's only over if they allow it to be. Only they themselves stand in the way of salvaging their relationship. Sequel to Dreams of Dark Chocolate and Stale Cigarettes.
1. Prologue: The End

**Author's Note**: Hello again! I finally have time to write again, so as promised, here is the sequel to "Dreams of Dark Chocolate and Stale Cigarettes." If anyone reading this has not yet read "Dreams," I would highly suggest doing that before proceeding as you will most likely be confused without the background.

There are a couple things I would like to discuss before you start reading, so please bear with me. Last time, I put two songs after the prologue that I thought represented the story as a whole. This time, I'm going to pick out a song for every chapter. From each artist I select, I'll pick two songs, one to accompany one of Mello's chapters, and the other for one of Matt's chapters. My goal is to pick a song for each chapter that represents it literally and/or symbolically with at least 90% accuracy.

Like last time, this will start off rated T, and I'll change it to M when the time comes. I will also continue to put warnings at the top of any chapters that contain lemon for anyone who doesn't want to read that sort of thing.

There is one more thing, but I don't want to give anything away, so I suppose I'll have to wait until after you read chapter 1 to bring it up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters.

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><p>Standing Still by Deas Vail<p>

**Prologue: The End**

Dear Mattie,

I'm sorry that I'm doing this to you, and I'm so sorry that you have to read this, but I wouldn't be able to do this any other way. You probably won't believe me, but I don't want to hurt you.

I know you won't believe that I still love you, but I do. I love you so much, and that's why I can't be with you. I can't stand to see you hurt anymore. I can't stand to see us fight everyday. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I just can't do this anymore. But this is the last time I'll hurt you. I promise.

You're probably thinking that I'm a coward, and you're right. I am. I'm terrified that if I don't leave, things will only get worse. Then we'd be left with nothing. I don't think I could ever hate you no matter how bad things got, but it's better if we don't find out. I'd rather just remember how we were when we were happy together.

I'm sure you probably hate me for this. I'm sure you wish I would have never asked you for help, that the night I left Whammy's would have been the last time you ever saw me, but I want you to know that I don't. I could never regret falling in love with you. The only thing I regret is letting things get so bad between us that there's no longer any way to fix it. I really did want to, but that's just not possible anymore.

I know this is no justification for how much I've hurt you in the past or how much me leaving will hurt you, but at least now it's only temporary. If I'm not there, we can't fight, we can't make each other miserable. It's like ripping off a band aid. We'll get over it.

No, I'm probably being conceited thinking you'll even miss me. Maybe you'll be happy I'm gone. Maybe you've already hated me for a long time. But if you didn't already, you would have eventually if I'd stayed, and I don't think I would be able to handle seeing that.

At least if I leave, I'll never be able to hurt you again. So I have to. Even though it's the end between us, I want you to know that I will always love you. I'll never forget the time we spent in this house. I can only hope that one day you will forgive me for everything I put you through.  
>I'll love you always.<p>

Mello


	2. Chapter 1: Déjà Vu

Your Biggest Mistake by Ellie Goulding

**Chapter 1: Déjà Vu**

Matt rolled to the right. Nothing was there. He was beginning to wake up somewhat, and the first thing he became conscious of was that Mello wasn't there. Not that that was anything new.

He'd had to sleep in the spare bedroom a lot recently, the room that he had slept in when they had first moved in. It was amazing to him how quickly it seemed to be becoming _his_ room again.

But as he woke up and became more conscious of his surroundings, he realized that he was, in fact, in Mello's room. Or was it still _their_ room?

He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. No wonder Mello wasn't there; he should have been up hours ago.

Or maybe Mello hadn't come to bed the night before? He couldn't remember. It wasn't an uncommon thing after all, and it was difficult to keep track of when they were on good terms. But he couldn't remember fighting the night before. Actually, things had seemed relatively peaceful, or at least, more so than they had been.

Mello had come home after work about a half an hour later than Matt and had seemed to be in a fairly good mood, if not distant. After Matt had decided to leave Mello stranded in town rather than picking him up after work one day the previous week because of the fight they had been having, they had started to drive into work separately.

If anything, they had been more civil towards each other the night before than they had been in a long while. It had seemed odd to eat the makeshift dinner Matt had thrown together, sitting at the table with Mello without their arguing. But Matt had gone with it, if not because he missed having dinner with Mello, than to try to keep the newfound peace.

He really did hate their constant bickering, and it was a nice change to eat together like they used to. It had been too long since they had been able to, and Matt truly had missed it a great deal. He missed how their life had been.

He wanted to fix it, and he knew Mello did too, but every time one of them tried to, the other seemed less than cooperative. Matt realized that it wasn't just Mello's fault, that it was his too. But that didn't change a thing. Wanting to make it work and actually making it work had become two very different things.

Deciding he had to get up eventually, Matt swung his feet over the edge of the bed, letting them hover over the inevitably cold hardwood floor. Despite the fact that it was now summer, the floor always seemed unpleasantly cold when he first got out of bed in the morning. Only the first unpleasant thing he was sure to have to deal with that morning.

Mello would probably have something to say about him sleeping in so late. It had never seemed to use to bother him, but recently, it was one more thing he could complain about.

Matt let his feet hit the floor and stood up, stretching slowly. If Mello was going to complain anyway, there was no reason to rush, especially when the longer Matt took, the more it would annoy the blond.

He went to the window, accidentally hitting the edge of the nightstand with his leg as he passed, and opened the shades, wondering when he had started doing things purposely to annoy Mello. He couldn't remember exactly, and it had become such a frequent occurrence that it didn't seem to matter anymore.

No, it didn't matter, not at all. Things were what they were; why did it matter when it had started?

He stumbled down the stairs, still half asleep, and glanced around the living room. Still no sign of Mello. "What are you making me for breakfast?" he called out, expecting him to be in the kitchen. He didn't smell anything cooking, but Mello should have had breakfast by then.

He honestly didn't expect Mello to make him something to eat, but since Mello had become increasingly presumptuous simply because he knew that it annoyed Matt, he had started to pick up the habit to spite him. If Mello actually did make him anything, he was sure to burn it, not because he couldn't cook but because he wanted to. No, Matt had taught him to cook properly a long time ago, but that wouldn't stop Mello from using not knowing how to cook as an excuse.

But there was no answer. "Mello, I thought things were going pretty well. Now you're going to refuse to talk to me?"

He went to the kitchen, deciding that he was hungry and would have to make himself something to eat whether or not there was a moody blond glaring at him the entire time. But Mello wasn't in there either.

Unconcerned, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of eggs before shutting it with perhaps a bit more force than he had intended. One of the small magnets dropped from the refrigerator door upon impact releasing the piece of paper it had been holding, allowing it to drop to the floor and slip under the refrigerator. Matt stared at the spot he had last seen the paper before it had disappeared from view for a minute, eventually disregarding it and starting on his breakfast. It couldn't be anything important.

The refrigerator door had once been a place to put notes to each other if they went out to let the other know where they had went and when they would be back. On occasion, they had even posted cute little notes to each other. Eventually, it instead had become a spot to put notes to each other when they weren't on speaking terms and was currently littered with such notes from earlier in the week. The paper that had fallen under the refrigerator was probably one of them, something Matt saw no need to retrieve.

He scraped the scrambled eggs onto a plate and took it to the living room. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels only half paying attention to the images that flickered in front of him. _Could that have actually been a note saying where he had gone?_

He couldn't get the paper out of his thoughts. Though it had been a very long time since either of them had bothered with such notes, it was a possibility. After all, it didn't seem like Mello was anywhere in the house. It wasn't out of the question that Mello had been in the bathroom since Matt had been up; he did, after all, like to hog the bathroom.

A small smile found its way to his lips. A lifetime ago, Matt had made fun of him at Whammy's for spending more time in the bathroom getting ready in the morning than the girls did. But the smile faded quickly. It certainly was a lifetime ago. There didn't seem to be any way that moment could be connected to where they were now.

It didn't matter. He seemed to remember the door being open when he had passed it on his way downstairs, and if it had been, he definitely hadn't seen Mello.

He had probably gone someplace, maybe to the grocery store, and would be back in an hour or so. Mello was always complaining that Matt never did the grocery shopping. For some reason, Mello saw the fact that Matt did most the cooking as a reason why he should be the one to do the grocery shopping too. Matt, however, felt the exact opposite way. And yet, he did it most of the time anyway, so he didn't know how Mello could say that he never did it.

Upon finishing the scrambled eggs, he realized that he was still flipping through the channels without actually seeing the TV. He turned it off and got up, taking a detour to the front window before continuing to the kitchen. Mello's motorcycle wasn't outside. Not that that necessarily meant anything. He had gone someplace, big deal. It was probably better that he did. That way they wouldn't start their day off fighting like they did far too often.

He put his plate in the sink and sighed. He hated how quiet it was. Or rather, he hated that it was only quiet because Mello wasn't there.

Matt was truly worried about their relationship. It seemed precarious at best and a complete and utter failure at worst. But last night they had got along, so it wasn't hopeless. He hoped.

Seeing the scraps of paper stuck to the front of the refrigerator, he decided that he was going to do whatever necessary to fix their relationship starting with getting rid of those dreadful notes. There was no way they could make things better if there was a constant reminder of how bad things had gotten.

He started his work immediately, piling the notes on the counter and replacing the magnets on the refrigerator. He glanced at them only to make sure that he didn't accidentally get rid of something important but didn't read any of them; he refused to revisit the hateful words which they held.

Once the refrigerator was free of the papers, he took great relish in walking them to the garbage can and throwing them away. He briefly considered trying to get the last one out from under the refrigerator but decided it would be more work than it would be worth. So instead went back upstairs to brush his teeth and take a shower.

Clearing the face of the refrigerator had been liberating, and he felt much more optimistic about his and Mello's future together.

Stepping out of the shower, he felt refreshed and couldn't wait for Mello to come home. They would have a lot to talk about if they were going to make things work, but Matt no longer felt like it would be impossible.

He pulled on some clothes and started for the door, having decided on playing some video games to pass the time while he waited for Mello to come home, when he noticed something was missing. Mello's rosary, which usually hung from the corner of the mirror in their bedroom, was gone. He went over to the mirror to look around the area under it, but the rosary was no where to be found.

Matt's heart skipped a beat. The rosary hadn't moved from that spot since Mello had put it there over a year ago. And if it hadn't fallen off the mirror and he hadn't removed it, then Mello must have taken it. But there was no reason why Mello should have wanted to take the rosary from its perch unless…

Matt's heart dropped. It couldn't be possible. No, that wasn't true. It was very possible, especially given how things had been going.

He ran to the closet and threw the door open. Mello's clothes were gone.

Starting to panic, Matt ran out the door and down the stairs. Mello wouldn't have just left; he would have left a note. Or at least, according to past experiences, Matt expected that this is what he would do. Convinced that the paper that had fallen under the refrigerator was the good bye note, he laid out on the kitchen floor trying to look under it. He couldn't see anything, but the paper had definitely slid under the refrigerator.

He tried to feel around for the paper, but his hand wouldn't fit under the refrigerator. He jumped up, looking around the kitchen for something he could use to get the paper out with. Grabbing a bread knife, he returned to the floor and tried to get the piece of paper out. The panic that ran through his veins made it more difficult than it otherwise would have been, but the edge of the paper was eventually brought to peek out from under the refrigerator.

The knife clattered to the floor, and he immediately reached for the paper. Matt felt like his chest was being constricted. It was just another of the notes that had been stuck to the refrigerator. Nothing special and not what he was looking for.

He sat there, staring at the paper. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes but blinked them away. He couldn't let himself cry; it wasn't certain that Mello had left, not until he found proof.

But he knew he that was lying to himself. All of Mello's clothes were gone; that was proof enough.

Matt stared down at the words on the paper he had worked desperately to retrieve. The words blurred together to the point where they were only a grey mass on white. The tears were getting harder to fight off.

A thought that contained hope, even if it was only the slightest amount, entered his mind. The note Mello left when he left Whammy's was put by his Game Boy, and Mello wasn't one to change the way he did something for no reason.

The paper and bread knife were abandoned on the floor, and Matt was running to the living room. His PSP was on the coffee table, but there was no sign of a note. In fact, the only other things on it were a couple magazines and the remote for the TV. He turned to the stack of video games on the floor next to the TV and his Wii. He yanked each of the video game cases open, tossing them haphazardly to the side when they didn't contain what he was looking for. But as the stack waned, so did his hope.

With the stack gone, he was once again at a loss but jumped up nonetheless and ran up the stairs. He didn't know where to look, but he wasn't going to give up until he either found something or had searched the entire house, and their room seemed to be the best place to start.

He scoured his bedside table, shuffling through the contents of the drawer but found nothing. He slammed the drawer shut in frustration causing the small lamp on the top to fall to the floor. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, still wet from the shower, trying to regain some composure before bending down to pick up the lamp.

But something caught his eye which made him stop. Like always, he had placed his goggles on the nightstand before going to sleep. He must have knocked them off the nightstand that morning when he had hit it.

The orange tinted goggles were lying on the floor, a piece of paper folded around the band.

• • •

Matt zipped the duffle bag closed. That was everything.

He looked around the room that he and Mello had shared. It looked so odd now, so empty. He couldn't take everything with him, it would be impractical, but the fact that the items he had chosen to leave behind were still scattered around the room only made it worse.

He felt sad leaving, but there really was no other choice; he knew what he had to do. He had made the necessary calls and done what he could to prepare, but there was only so much he could plan for. There were still too many variables for him to feel entirely comfortable with his plan, but he had already wasted too much time.

Matt regretted those wasted hours, the hours he had spent reading and rereading that note Mello had left, the time spent crying over those words. It was precious time he couldn't get back. He hoped that loss wouldn't be too detrimental.

He knew himself too well to think that there was any way this could have not happened, but he still wished he could have skipped that part, skipped to an emotion that was more useful.

He had been surprised by the anger that had overtaken him; his sadness, no matter how devastating, had never before been followed by anger. Except that time when he had been trying to quit smoking. But he didn't count that. He had been less than stable.

But was that really so different? Perhaps not. He couldn't exactly consider the state he had been in after reading that note stable. Especially considering the things he had thought then.

For a second, he had been glad that Mello had left, had hated him for making him go through this again. But even as he thought this, he knew he could never truly hate Mello despite what the note had said.

He had become certain of only one thing about that note: that it was full of lies. They _could_ fix their relationship. Matt _had_ never and _could_ never truly hate Mello. He even doubted the very first words Mello had written: that he was sorry. The only thing that it contained that Matt knew without a doubt that he believed was that Mello was being a coward.

But the anger had faded too. He still was mad at Mello for leaving, but it was different now. As his rage had passed, what he had to do had become clear to him.

Matt chuckled softly to himself thinking about it as he walked through the house, checking each room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Before, he would have never gotten so angry over such a thing; the old him would have stayed depressed. Another thing that seemed a lifetime ago.

Mello had changed him. He was stronger now.

And he did not want things to be over between them, this he was certain of. And even if there really was no hope for their relationship, he was not going to let things end like this, with Mello walking away like a coward. He wasn't going to lie down and take it this time.

Matt grabbed the duffle bag he had used years ago when they were running from the NPA and stepped out the door into the light of the setting sun, locking the door behind him.

The walk to his car seemed longer to him than normal. It was a strange feeling to him, walking away from their house for what might be the last time because, despite everything, he still considered it their home. In his eyes, it would always be their home.

He just hoped that, among all the things he couldn't account for, there wouldn't be one that would make it impossible to continue. But there would be no way of knowing until he encountered such a problem, so he kept going, finally making it to the car.

The key turned in the ignition, and he pulled away from the home he and Mello had made together, away from the fields of lavender. He would have to hurry if he were to make it to the airport in time.

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><p><strong>AN**: So as I'm sure you can see, this is not going to start off cute and fluffy like "Dreams" did. That's not to say that there will never be a cute, happy chapter this time around, but "Cinders in the Ashtray" will follow Mello and Matt through a very different stage in their relationship.

Also, I mentioned it briefly in this chapter, but in case you missed it, this takes place about a year after the epilogue of "Dreams."

Lastly, to those of you who voted on what you wanted me to write next, "Neon Hearts" came in second, which means I'll be starting that in a couple weeks.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story and that the rather depressing start will not deter you from continuing to read it.


	3. Chapter 2: Pretend

Tell Me I'm a Wreck by Every Avenue

**Chapter 2: Pretend**

Mello slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, finally able to relax. He gave a small sigh of relief. This was all a lot more difficult than he remembered.

He locked the door, still leaning against it as if this would help to increase the barrier between him and the other side of the door, before pushing off the cold metal. He barely realized he was walking towards the small bed in the room as his legs seemed to move on their own. He tossed his gun to the small table which held a couple bars of chocolate, the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the bed, and let himself fall face forward onto the hard, lumpy surface of the bed. The unpleasant, musty smell of the blanket entered his nostrils, making him want to get up away from it or at least turn over so that his face wasn't pressed against the source of the smell, but he couldn't decide if it was worth putting the energy into it.

Eventually it became too much, and he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't understand how he had ever lived like this. And for almost two years at that.

He hated this place.

And yet this is where he had chosen to go. _I didn't used to hate it here. The power…made up for everything else._ Or at least, that's the only thing he could think of.

Mello draped his arm over his eyes, blocking out the harsh florescent light pouring down overhead. He tried to search for something that would explain the difference. But nothing was really different, at least, not physically. Thinking back, this is exactly how he remembered life with the Mafia. The only thing there that had changed was him.

Last time, he had reveled in the power, loving that they followed every command without question. He had enjoyed using them as a means to get at what he wanted, though he had ultimately failed. But this time was different. He hated being around these lowlifes, he hated being stuck in the hideout all the time, and he hated what was expected of him as their leader.

They had accepted him as their boss very quickly; in fact, strangely so. He supposed it had to do with his reputation because it wasn't as if they shared a certain goal as they had the last time. There was no longer a Death Note for the Mafia to want.

Another thing he detested: having a reputation of being ruthless, and worse, of being an e_ffective_ Mafia boss. He cringed at the thought of what he had to do to get such distinction. He hated even remembering that time of his life, yet here he was again.

He supposed he had never realized just how much he had come to despise that part of his life and everything that had went with it until he had come back to it. But that was only part of it. He had nowhere else to go. He couldn't go back to the Catholic orphanage or to Whammy's and he had left his and Matt's home in Hokkaido. There was only one other place he had ever lived, or at least that he could remember. He didn't count whatever place he had lived the first few days of his life with his mother. How could he when he preferred not even to think of it? She had abandoned him, and he hated her for it.

So he had returned to the Mafia. A decision he was beginning to regret very much. He couldn't stand it, but leaving wasn't an option. But they didn't exactly trust him. He had been very surprised when they had accepted him as their boss, especially considering what he had had to go through last time. And even then, he had still only been right hand man of Rod Ross, only second in command. The thought occurred to him that they were afraid that he would kill them if they didn't. After all, if he could get past the security cameras they had set up, surely he could find some way to kill them all effectively. Or so it seemed they thought. This group didn't appear to be quite as intelligent as the last.

Not that he would have it in him to kill someone anymore, but the loaded gun he kept with him presented a different picture if pointed in the right direction. And he supposed that the fact that the group he had been in before all ended up dead while he had survived helped.

But that didn't really change the fact that they were only following him out of fear, not loyalty. And it was blatantly clear that they were already skeptical of him. If he tried to leave, they would kill him for sure. There really was no question of it. The weak at the bottom of the food chain had been won to his side by his very presence which promised good leadership, but they were easily swayed. If he didn't keep up a perfect façade, they would abandon him as quickly as they had joined him. As soon as the first whisperings of mutiny were heard, they would join the other side.

Perhaps the bigger problem were those who held more power. They were the ones who couldn't be trusted. It was easy to predict the actions of the weaker underlings, but those who held more influence were more complicated. It was clear that they had not wanted to give up a position of power. It wasn't as if it was a huge change, but there was a clearly defined hierarchy, and if someone came in and was placed at the top, everyone else was knocked down a peg. However, the masses outnumbered the few at the top. If they moved to support someone else, there was little the previous leaders could do.

What didn't help his position was that he stayed in his room whenever possible. He did not like being around them in the slightest and was afraid that he was making this too obvious. He had to make them believe his act. His life depended on it.

So while Mello was supposed to be the one there with the most power, he was trapped and saw no way out. In the three days he had been there, he had already begun to think of possible escape plans but nothing seemed even possible, let alone probable.

_I'm wasting my time. I should be thinking of something to tell them tomorrow._ The next day. That was his deadline. They had been getting restless with their supposedly skilled leader neglecting to give them orders so he had told them that he would reveal his plan the following day. So it was useless to try to think of an escape plan. He'd gotten nowhere in three days and doubted he would make any more progress that night. It was safer to think of something that would buy him more time.

_What should I have them do? I couldn't live with myself if they killed someone because of me. I need something where they won't hurt anyone… _He laid there for nearly half an hour, going over different plans and all the ways they could pan out, trying to think of what would have the fewest consequences.

He eventually decided a kidnapping would be the best course of action. The person being kidnapped would be terrified, no doubt, but would likely not be killed. After all, if the hostage were killed, there would be no way to get the ransom money. At that, the money would probably come from some rich old man who could spare it anyway. He didn't see any real damage coming from this, and it would keep them busy, effectively keeping him alive.

Mello removed his arm from over his eyes and rolled onto his side. He shifted again, still not being able to get comfortable. The leather clothing was too much. He rolled to his other side and tried to ignore it, but couldn't.

He sat up, becoming annoyed, and practically ripped the leather vest from his body, throwing it at the wall. It slapped against the wall and fell to the floor in a heap. He breathed in, filling his lungs with the musty air. It wasn't quite satisfying, but he did feel a little better, less constricted. But now that there was nothing separating the rosary from his skin, he could feel the cold metal of the cross on his chest. He couldn't stand the clothes he had practically lived in before; he didn't care how good they looked on him anymore.

He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He couldn't take it anymore; he was going to go insane. And it was all because he couldn't stay in their house, because he couldn't stay with Matt. It was all Matt's fault.

Matt had been the one to start this, or at least, if it hadn't started because of Matt, he had been the one to bring it out in the open. Mello knew it was still partially his fault, but Matt hadn't been understanding in the slightest. Matt always complained that Mello the one who was selfish and demanding, but with the way Matt had been acting, he felt like this couldn't be further from the truth.

And then when Mello had decided to try to work things out with Matt, had gotten off of work early, had worked something out with Matt's boss so that he could leave early, had planned out a picnic for them, Matt made it perfectly clear that he no longer cared. Mello had wanted to surprise Matt and had came in to meet him at the beginning of his lunch break only to find Matt complaining about him to one of his coworkers. Matt hadn't seen him, but Mello had heard every word.

Mello had left and had never said anything about what he had heard to Matt. That was when he had started thinking things were hopeless, about a month before he had decided it was time for him to leave.

Things had only become even worse in that last month. They had barely talked except to argue about stupid petty things. Things they had once found endearing in each other had become annoying, and after Mello had decided that there was no use trying to salvage their relationship, he had done nothing to hide how he felt.

But could he really blame Matt for his misery at that moment? It was his decision to leave, not Matt's. Even if he had left because of Matt, Matt hadn't been the one to decide he should run off and join the Mafia again. Besides, he had left _for_ Matt.

He had meant everything he had said in that note and a part of him couldn't stand it. At the last minute, with the pen in hand and the paper before him, he couldn't imagine a single thing about Matt that annoyed him. At that moment, he had loved Matt more than he had in months and did not want to leave. Yet he had still felt that things were too far gone to fix; he wouldn't have left if he hadn't been sure.

He had thought about it a lot the week before, imagining different scenarios of what would partake if he broke down and told Matt that he was sorry for everything. He could imagine Matt apologizing as well, trying to talk about everything, being able to make progress. But then he imagined more fighting, refusing to talk to each other, a complete reversal to the way they had been before the apology. No matter how many times he ran a hypothetical sequence of events through his head, they all ended up with his and Matt's relationship just as bad if not worse than it already was.

So he had left. There was no reason for them to keep making each other miserable. They could both move on then. Or he hoped Matt could because he didn't seem to be making any progress. He had only reverted back to his old ways which he had found he no longer enjoyed.

And what made things worse was that he missed Matt terribly. Though he kept telling himself that leaving was for the best, it was hard to believe when all he wished was that he could take it back.

Not that Matt would ever take him back. _He must hate me now… Even if I could manage to get out of here, he wouldn't love me anymore. Even if I could find him. He'd never stay at the house, not with all the memories attached to it. He could be anywhere… I'll probably never see him again._

Tears began to well up in his eyes at the thought. Never seeing Matt again was the worst possible thing he could think of at that moment, and he had brought it on himself.

He wiped at his eyes furiously, refusing to let the tears fall. He couldn't cry then; it would do absolutely nothing to help. Not that anything would help. He would just have to not think about it.

The only other option would be to be angry at Matt, but he didn't know if he could bring himself back to that or if he wanted to. Either way, he had to at least appear stronger than he felt. His room was supposed to be the only one without surveillance, but he didn't trust the members of the Mafia who worked under him anymore than they trusted him. They could have very well hid something in his room without his knowing. He was sure that his odd behavior, or at least odd for a Mafia boss, had already hurt his chances of them trusting him. And his only chance of survival was them trusting him.

His new line of thought didn't quite make him feel better, but it took away the sadness. Unfortunately, it replaced it with fear. Ever since he had returned to the Mafia, he had felt fear more than any other emotion. He felt like his life was constantly in danger, and he supposed that it was. If he didn't play his part well enough, they would kill him.

His best bet would be to forget about Matt. If he didn't think about him, that would be one less thing in his way. If he pretended that he didn't care, maybe he could get out alive.

So that's what he would have to do. At least until he could escape. There had to be some way out. He had managed to get everyone in a hideout killed once; he could probably do it again. But that was only because of everything that had happened with the Death Note, and he really preferred not to have to kill anyone, even if they were criminals.

A low laugh issued forth from his lips. Even in the situation he was in, he couldn't help but think it was somewhat funny how much he had changed. He used to believe that the ends justified the means, but now he couldn't even bring himself to think about killing criminals.

That was giving himself too much credit. He hadn't changed on his own; he had changed for Matt. Or perhaps it was even that Matt had changed him. He seemed to remember being a good person when he was at Whammy's with Matt. Well, not necessary a good person, but certainly not a bad person, not a malicious person. He had become that way after leaving Matt. And if ever in his life he could actually classify himself as an honestly good person it was when he was living with Matt in their house in Hokkaido. At least, before they had started fighting.

He had been as close to selfless as he had ever been. He had even taken care of Takahashi-san when he had become sick. Had helped with the funeral when he…

Mello could not think about that. He was supposed to be keeping himself from crying not thinking about things that would probably make him start again.

He couldn't think about his life there. Nothing about it was relevant to his situation. But even so, he couldn't help but worry that if it was Matt who kept him from being a terrible person, would he be able to stop that from happening again now that he had left Matt?

The sound of a gunshot made Mello jump and the scream that followed shortly after made his heart drop. He ran to the door, grabbing his gun off the table on his way, and tried to open it, forgetting that he had locked it. He turned the lock and threw the door open, stepping out into the main area of the hideout. A woman was lying on the floor, dead.

Noticing that everyone in the room was looking at him including the man who had evidently been the one to kill her based on the gun in his hand, he wiped the shock from his features and tried to act like the Mafioso he was supposed to be.

"Who the fuck did this?" he yelled, though he already knew exactly who was responsible.

"I did," the deep voice of the man with the gun said, seemingly unconcerned.

"Clean it up!" The man only looked at him. "Go! Before her blood spreads to the rug!" He wanted to kick himself when the words left his mouth. _Right, like they're going to care about the rug._

The man looked to the rug, which appeared as if it had once held much value but had been reduced to a tattered mass of dirt and stains, and back to Mello. He didn't move.

"NOW! GO!" Mello screamed at him, pointing his gun directly at the man's head.

The man, who looked much stronger than Mello and also held a gun, complied. Or at least he commanded two other men to clean it up, and they complied.

Without another word, Mello retreated to his room again, slamming the door in the hope that it would make them believe that he was angry about "the mess." If he was angry about anything, it was how little respect they had for life.

It disgusted him. Especially how they treated the women they kept around. Exploited them, abused them, and then replaced them when they were no longer useful. To them, the death of that woman was nothing; she could be replaced. To Mello, it was a tragedy even without considering that she had probably done absolutely nothing to deserve her fate. And it disgusted him that he used to be like them.

He locked the door and flicked the light switch off, resigning himself to the bed, removing his boots but leaving the tight leather pants on. He had no more energy than to lie down onto the blanket that covered the bed. He had no idea what time it was, but he needed to get away from his reality, and the only possible escape came in sleep.

He hated to admit it to himself, but as he lay on the bed staring up into the darkness, he knew that he had to make himself believe that he hated Matt. He knew that this would be a difficult task, but once he convinced himself of it, it would be easier than trying to forget him entirely and would keep him from missing the redhead he knew he still loved. All he would have to do was focus on everything Matt had done to wrong him. Maybe if he could pretend to hate Matt and could focus on that hate, he could play his part of Mafia boss a little more convincingly.

In the mean time, he would work on an escape plan and would figure out his actual feelings towards Matt after he found a way out.

Despite his need for an escape, he didn't want to go to sleep. Sleep would bring the next day, the day he would have to administer his plans of the kidnapping. He would have to lie to himself, convince himself that he was still the person he used to be, the person he now hated.

Lies. His life would be made of lies until he could get out of the mess he had made for himself. So his first lie was that he still liked the position of power he was in. A lie that allowed him to finally close his eyes and allowed sleep to overtake him.

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><p>AN: This chapter… was exhausting to write. But now that that's taken care of, things should start getting a little more interesting. ;)

A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
>SyC0bEaR, gami, ShadowQueen1996, death2society, LoveUntilWeBleed, Video Games and Chocolate<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: The Search

Cross My Heart by Marianas Trench

**Chapter 3: The Search**

Matt slammed his laptop closed in frustration. He hadn't expected it to take this long.

He had known where Mello had gone as soon as he had recovered after reading the note he had left. It was obvious really, knowing Mello as well as he did. He would have had to feel trapped, like there was no option available for him but to leave. When he had left Whammy's, he had felt like that was the only choice he had.

But there really was nowhere for him to go, and because of this, he would go someplace familiar to him. Matt was sure that he wouldn't go back to Whammy's; there was no life there for him anymore. L had already been replaced by Near so there was no longer any need for everything he had worked so hard to accomplish there. Besides, he would have had to leave at eighteen anyway.

Mello would not go back to the Catholic orphanage he had lived at before coming to Whammy's. Though Matt was certain that a part of Mello wanted to go back and apologize to Sister Katharina for his actions as a child, he would probably never do it, and even if he were to, now would not be the time he would try it. If Mello did really think himself a coward, he would also feel ashamed of himself for not being able to say good bye in person, and he wouldn't go see someone he looked up to in the case that she would be ashamed of him too. That is, if Sister Katharina was even still alive. Mello had never said how old she was while he was at the orphanage, so it was possible that he would never even have the opportunity to apologize to her anymore.

And since he had left their home in Hokkaido, there was only one other place he could have gone. The Mafia. Specifically, most likely somewhere in Los Angeles since that had been where he had been last time. Despite the scar that he saw every time he looked at himself in the mirror telling him otherwise, he would figure that if he had been successful there before, he could be successful there again.

Which was a stupid thing to assume in Matt's opinion. For being ranked second at Whammy's, Mello didn't always seem to make the most intelligent decisions. Though Matt figured it wasn't that he didn't have the capability of making intelligent decisions, it was more that he didn't think things through, and therefore, was left with making terrible decisions.

Mello was not the same person he had been the last time he had been in the Mafia. He wouldn't have what it takes to live like that anymore, exploiting others for personal gain. That wasn't him, and Matt was convinced that that had never been him. It had been an idea that had been taken too far. Mello had thought that it would be a way to find Kira before Near did, so he had convinced himself that he was _that_ type of person. Mello could only take so much lying to himself before he actually started to become the lie.

And this worried Matt. Though he was still very angry with Mello for leaving, he wanted him back. But if he had been so sure as to actually leave, he would never come back. Not on his own anyway.

Matt wanted Mello back the way he was, the way he knew was the real Mello. The problem was that there were only two options he could imagine taking place, and neither of them were good. Mello would either stay true to himself and be eaten alive by the Mafia or would, once again, convince himself that he belonged there.

So there was only one thing Matt could do. He had bought a one way ticket to Los Angeles, California and was going to bring Mello back whether he wanted to come back or not.

But time had become an issue. Matt knew that he had to hurry lest one of the two scenarios be completed. He had believed if he got to Mello soon enough, he could stop said completion, and he had assumed that he would be able to find the Mafia hideout Mello was in relatively quickly. And naturally, by relatively quickly, he meant within a few days of arriving in California. Yet here he was, a full week later, and he had made no real progress. He couldn't help but feel that time was running out.

But he couldn't keep going. He was too frustrated to keep searching, plus he had to get ready for work.

Last time he had been in California with Mello, money had been no object. Mello had just 'inherited' all that money from the Mafia and so any expense they had to make had seemed insignificant. But now that he was trying to live alone on only half of the money that had been in their funds, the high prices had become a major concern.

He supposed that it was only fair that Mello had taken half of what they had in savings, but that had seemed to leave him with close to nothing. It had left him with enough for a plane ticket, one month's rent on a terrible little apartment in an area that could only be considered 'not the best' if one was feeling rather generous in their description, and a little extra money for food and other 'essentials.' In the 'essentials' category, Matt had to included a mattress, not an entire bed but just the mattress, because the apartment had come with absolutely no furniture, and he was not going to sleep on the floor. It wasn't that he felt above sleeping on the floor, it was more that the floor was disgusting, and he didn't really want to touch it, let alone sleep on it.

Things like a bed frame and blankets weren't necessary, at least, not given the amount of money he had.

So he was left with an apartment of one bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen with a bed and the mini-fridge and stove which were the only appliances to be found in the desolate excuse for an apartment. There was, however, a gaping hole in the wall where Matt could only assume an oven was supposed to go. He couldn't be sure especially since he had no desire to investigate it and whatever filth it contained.

The conditions he was living in made him wish he would have had the money to bring his car with him or, for that matter, rent a car there just so that he could live in it. Because he thought he might actually feel safer living out of a car than in the apartment in which he was currently residing. But alas, that was not an option anymore. He had already put the money down on the apartment when he had come up with this brilliant idea of living out of a car, and things were just too expensive to spend the extra money.

He had been surprised by how much everything cost there. He had to pay the same amount for one month's rent on the apartment as they had to pay per month on the house they had lived in.

With so little money left and the prices of _everything_ seeming to be unreasonably high, Matt had had to get a job. He hadn't exactly been picky about what jobs he had filled out applications for partially because he didn't expect to be there that long and partially because he, quite simply, needed money and any job would do.

So this is how he ended up working at a used bookstore. It wasn't that the job was particularly terrible, rather it was decent most of the time, it was just that it wasn't anything special compared to his last job.

He had loved his job working at the electronics store in Biei, Hokkaido. He had loved being surrounded by computers all day and had even been promoted to head of the support team, so when someone came in with a computer they _swore_ they hadn't done anything to mess up, he got to fix it. Not that this was a bad thing; he enjoyed fixing computers. The only negative thing about his job was that most of the problems he had to fix were too easy and, therefore, no fun.

He got up from the mattress and slid the laptop under it. He wished there was some way to make it fit into his pocket so that he wouldn't have to leave in the apartment, but that was an impossibility. There was no way that he could keep it on him like he did with the only other things of value he had brought with him: his PSP, cell phone, and wallet. Not that his wallet really had any value; all it held was a couple singles, a ton of receipts, and a picture of him and Mello, hardly anything someone would want to steal.

But his laptop was a different story. Everyday when he left for work, he worried about leaving it behind. Given the area of the city he lived in, it was very possible, even likely, that someone would break in. And he had no place to hide it. He could put in the duffle bag which held his clothes, but that seemed like it would probably be the first place a robber would look after they noticed that there were no valuables lying around. The only other place he could possibly hide it besides under the mattress was in the depths of the hole in the wall in the kitchen, but that probably wouldn't be very effective; he doubted that a robber would have the same aversions to the hole as he did since they would probably have no qualms about digging around a disgusting mess of dust and grime and who knows what else if it meant getting a laptop out of it. Even if his laptop wasn't really all that new anymore.

So he had to resign himself to hiding it under the mattress before grabbing the nametag he had to wear at work and heading out the door, locking it behind him as if it would do anything to help.

If someone wanted to break in, there really wouldn't be anything to stop them. Matt thought that even he would be able to break the door down, and he didn't consider himself that strong by any means.

Matt headed for the stairwell, checking his cell phone for the time and picking up his pace when he saw that there was a possibility that he might miss the bus. He wished silently that the elevator not be broken, though he pushed the possibility aside and focused his energy on running down the stairs.

He lived on the fourth floor and had still not gotten used to having to go up and down four flights of stairs every time he had to leave the apartment. By the time he reached the bottom, he was out of breath and so took his time walking out of the building in an effort to regain the ability to breathe properly. The bus was always late anyway.

But when he looked down the street, the bus was already at the bus stop a block away. He took off running again, afraid that it would pull away before he reached it, but he managed to make it in time just before the bus driver was about to close the doors. He paid and took the first seat he saw, breathing even heavier than he had been after running down the stairs; he wasn't used to this amount of exercise.

Another reason why he should have just rented a car: he wouldn't have had to take the bus in to work. Though he supposed the bus fare was probably less than the cost of the amount of gas he would use driving to work.

Matt pulled his PSP out of his pocket and turned it on. What with working so many hours and trying to figure out where Mello's Mafia hideout was in his spare time, he wasn't getting enough video games in his schedule to keep him happy.

But even though he desperately wanted to get everything that was going on off of his mind, he found it difficult to pay attention to the small screen. He kept zoning out and dying which left him no closer to finishing the level and several lives shorter than he had started with. Getting fed up with it, he shut it off and jammed it back into his pocket.

He pushed his goggles up to his forehead and rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well and was exhausted, which was probably why he couldn't concentrate on his game. He sighed and replaced the goggles over his eyes, resigning himself to staring out the window.

He tried simply to not think about anything, to for the first time since he had arrived in LA not worry over anything. As it turned out, there was nothing simple about not thinking about anything.

No matter how many times he tried to steer his thoughts away from it, they kept returning to his search and how little progress he had made. Every time he thought that he had found something, it would turn out to be useless. One time, he thought for certain that he had found it, but then there was nothing there. His conclusion was that they must have moved the hideout because they had definitely been there.

So he knew that if he could find their previous hideout, he could find the one they were currently in. The only issue would be if he were too late, and with things going the way they were, that seemed a definite possibility. If he was too late and one of the two scenarios had been completed, he didn't know what he would do.

He honestly didn't know which would be worse, the Mafia killing Mello or Mello convincing himself that he was supposed to be in the Mafia again. Either way Mello would be dead. Or at least, with the second option, the Mello that Matt loved would be dead.

Which meant the only option was to find him as soon as possible. But what if as soon as possible wasn't soon enough?

The bus pulled up to Matt's stop, and he exited as quickly as possible, happy that he wouldn't be able to complete his thought. He only had a few minutes to walk to the bookstore he worked in before his shift started.

He was very glad that it was located in a nicer part of town if only because that meant higher class customers. Not that they got many customers.

The bell above the door chimed as he walked in. He looked around the small store and was surprised not to see anyone, even the girl who was supposed to have the shift before him. He couldn't remember her name. Ashley or Abby or Amy. He remembered it was something that started with an A.

It was a small used bookstore that had just opened. They were still terribly understaffed which meant that one person worked the store at a time for long hours. Not that it mattered. Very few people ever came in which meant the only real work was attempting to organize and catalogue the hundreds of books that were still being shipped in which currently lay out in stacks all over the floor rather than on the shelves. He didn't know the girl very well, but she seemed very energetic and hardworking; he didn't doubt that the mess of books on the floor was her doing in some attempt to organize them.

"Hello?" he called out, stepping over a pile of books in an attempt to get closer to the desk which held a cash register and an ancient computer on which he was supposed to clock in.

"Oh, hi!" a voice came from behind one of the many bookshelves before a girl a few years younger than him with long, light brown hair stepped into view, "I must have lost track of time." She maneuvered her way around the books on the floor towards him, stopping in what evidently was the center of her project. "Uh, sorry to have to leave you with this, but could you try to finish organizing these?" she said, gesturing to the books on the floor.

"I guess…" he said reluctantly. It would have been easier if he had been the one who had started to organize them; he had no idea why certain books were in certain piles.

"Great!" Her bubbly nature would have perhaps been less annoying and more pleasant if Matt had not been in a bad mood from the lack of success on finding the hideout. "So, the ones over there have already been entered into the catalogue and are organized by author, the ones over there are classified as 'rare,' and the ones in that area I haven't done anything with, so they're still kind of a mess," she said, pointing to different parts of the store as she explained. Matt couldn't believe that she only considered that one section to be 'a mess;' the whole store was a mess.

"Mkay," he said, not sure what kind of response was appropriate. He was not happy about having this project thrust upon him, but at least it would hopefully keep his mind off of things. He watched as the girl, whose name apparently was Amy according to her nametag, expertly walked around the books and to the computer to clock out.

"I think that's everything," she said, adjusting her thick-rimmed glasses as she leaned up from over the keyboard, "If you have any questions, my number is in the computer system." She grabbed her purse from behind the counter and started for the door. "Bye Matt, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," he responded half-heartedly, trying to get to the counter. As he heard the bell above the door chime again, announcing the girl's departure, he accidentally knocked over one of the stacks of books, and when he bent down to pick them up, he managed to knock over another.

Abandoning the mess he had made, he continued to the computer. This nonsense could count in the time he spent working.

Once he had entered the time, he brought the catalogue page up so that it was ready once he got around to entering in the information for the books that had not yet been processed. If he could remember which piles Amy had said still needed to be entered.

Matt looked around the store, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of books lying out. This is not what he needed. If he was going to be overwhelmed by something, he'd prefer that it be his search for Mello. That seemed like it would be much more productive. Besides, he didn't know why the owner of the bookstore, whom he had only seen once which was during the interview, couldn't have done this before he had opened the store.

After looking around the store at the mess he was supposed to clean up for what must have been close to five minutes, he forced himself to start. It wasn't like there was anything else for him to do. He would just have to forget about his search until he got home later that night.

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><p>AN: Just a heads up, the next week is going to be kind of hectic for me so I might not be posting the next chapter on time. Of course I will do my best, but I won't be having very much free time plus I have to rework some of my plans for upcoming chapters as well as finish planning for "Neon Hearts." For that matter, "Neon Hearts" will probably have to be pushed back a week or two. Anyway, I'm done complaining about everything I have to do now. I hoped everyone enjoyed the chapter; it wasn't quite as depressing as the others, dare I even say hopeful? You readers can judge that for yourselves.

A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
>SyC0bEaR, Ily711, LoveUntilWeBleed, Midnightkisses10, Video Games and Chocolate, death2society, foreverunloved<p> 


	5. Chapter 4: Time Wasted

**Author's Note:** First of all, I'm sorry this is so dreadfully late. One busy week turned into two, and I just didn't have time to write. And now that I'm finally posting something, _this_ is what I give you. I felt terrible about writing this, especially the beginning. I don't want to give anything away, but please have faith in Mello.

And, um, one last thing before you start: I make a reference to the poem "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. I've provided a short summary of the events relevant to this chapter at the bottom of the page, so if you are not familiar with this poem, just scroll down when you get to that part.

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><p>A Scale, A Mirror, and Those Indifferent Clocks by Bright Eyes<p>

**Chapter 4: Time Wasted**

Mello fumbled to shut the door behind him, trying not to break the kiss. Failing at his task anyway, he turned to lock it and then returned to the girl who had taken it upon herself to remove her shirt and lay out on the bed. He didn't know the girl's name, nor did he care; she was merely a distraction.

He hesitated for a moment, looking at her. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. Her slim figure and large breasts were everything he used to be convinced were attractive. And then there were features he had never specifically paid attention to before. The way the layers of her dark hair framed her face, the beauty in the shade of her hazel eyes. These were things he never would have noticed before; he would have seen that she had a pretty face and would have left it at that. But despite everything, it didn't feel right, being in his room with this girl, trying to convince himself that he should do what he was planning on doing with her.

Everything in him told him that he should want to, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong. He kept thinking back to all the girls he had slept with the last time he was in the Mafia. It had never mattered what there names were or that he knew absolutely nothing about them other than that they were there as play things for the Mafia members. It had never mattered before, but now it seemed to matter a great deal.

And then the thought crossed his mind that he hadn't had sex with a girl, or for that matter, someone other than… _him _in a very long time. About two years, in fact. This worried him in a way that he couldn't quite explain to himself. It wasn't that he would have forgotten how; he knew if he could let his instincts take over, it would come naturally. Rather, it was closer to a fear that he wouldn't be any good.

He had never had this fear before. He had always _known_ that he was good. Even his first time he hadn't been this worried. He hadn't let himself worry. Like every other time before… before he had left the Mafia, it had simply been for lust, and so he simply followed his instincts, and his instincts had served him well.

Besides, all the girls he had been with had seemed to enjoy it. Although, they were expected to. As Mello thought about it, or rather, tried not to think about it, he was sure that they had learned how to fake it pretty well. Which naturally didn't do anything to make him feel better.

He tried desperately not to think about that. The possibly that they had faked it with him was too much given his current situation. So he didn't. He focused on the girl in front of him, who seemed to be getting impatient. He could only stall for so long and couldn't stand there forever.

He tried not to think about anything, as he knew that any thoughts that would worm their way into his brain wouldn't be helpful and would only discourage him further. And in thinking about nothing, he crossed the room to the bed and climbed on top of the girl who laid there.

He kissed her, barely even feeling his actions as his tongue snaked into her mouth, and his hand moved down to unbutton the jeans that were wrapped tightly around her hips. He tried not to think about his actions as he pulled them down and off of her legs. He couldn't think; if he did, he would have realized that this was not what he wanted.

Without warning, _he_ flickered across Mello's thoughts. _That_ was unacceptable. He pushed _him_ from his thoughts and put all his energies into focusing on the girl beneath him.

With her jeans discarded on the floor, his hand moved up again, running up her side to her bra. He fondled her breast through the thin silky fabric, feeling her nipple become hard from his touch.

But he needed to move on if he was going to go through with this. It was becoming more difficult to fight off his conscience.

His hand found it's way to her back and was about to unhook her bra when he froze.

All he could think of was Matt. He felt like he was cheating on Matt. He couldn't do this; he would never be able to live with himself if he did.

But he wasn't with Matt anymore, so it shouldn't matter. He had left Matt; Matt was no longer his boyfriend, so he was _not_ cheating on him. Under no circumstances could this be considered cheating on Matt.

Matt probably didn't even care about him anymore. He was probably glad that Mello had left. He had probably moved on…

Despite his rationalization, he couldn't help but feel that this was just another lie he was trying to tell himself. If there was even the slightest chance that Matt did want him back, then it did matter, right?

He felt like it shouldn't, but somehow, it mattered a great deal. If Matt wanted him back, it didn't matter if they weren't still together at that moment. If Matt wanted him back, then maybe they should still be together.

He leaned up and left the bed, turning away from the girl. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to stop the onslaught of thoughts that were racing through his head, making him second guess everything he had done since that day almost two months before when he had completely given up on their relationship.

"Did I…do something wrong?" the girl asked, sounding worried. Mello jumped slightly, surprised by the sound of her voice. When he turned around, the first thing he noticed was the concerned look on her face. He felt terrible for making her worry like that. He knew that if she had been with someone else in the Mafia and had actually done something that they had perceived as 'wrong,' her life could be in danger. Someone else might not hesitate to torture and/or kill her if she had not fulfilled their expectations.

"No, it's not your fault…" He had no idea how to console her or even how to get her to leave the room; he had never turned down sex before.

"You seem distracted. Let me take your mind off of it," she said, crawling across the bed towards him. She kneeled on the edge and took his hand, trying to get him to return.

"No, I can't." He pulled away from her, at a loss for what to do next. He wanted her to leave, but short of picking her up and placing her outside of his door, he had no idea how to make her do so, as she seemed to have no intention of leaving.

"Sure you can," she said, giving up on pulling Mello back to the bed and, instead, slipping her bra off. "I'll do _anything_ you want me to," she continued, her voice seductive. Or rather, what Mello knew was supposed to be seductive; he was unphased.

"Anything?" he questioned, "If you really mean that, then please leave." Noticing her pants on the floor, a sickening feeling overtook him. He _was_ cheating on Matt. He picked her jeans up off the floor and tossed them to the bed in front of her in what he hoped added emphasis.

"I don't understand…" She hesitantly latched her bra and looked at him with an expression that suddenly bordered on fear.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said, the words coming out slightly harsher than he had intended. Her fear gave him another reason to hate himself.

She quickly looked away but did nothing to leave; she simply sat on the bed, staring at the floor as if waiting for further instruction.

Seeing her like this made him pity her. He had no way of knowing what could have gotten her into the position she was in with the Mafia and could only imagine the desperation that had led her there. Though he didn't know her, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to see her free of the Mafia.

"Put your clothes back on," he said, finding her shirt and throwing it to land on top of her jeans. If he didn't tell her to, he felt that she probably never would. She glanced over at him, face displaying a look of confusion, but quickly turned away again and started getting dressed.

He looked away as she did so, as if it mattered somehow. Though she had been sitting there, almost completely naked what seemed like seconds ago, he suddenly felt as if he were invading her privacy.

A minute passed, and he started to feel as if it shouldn't take her this long to get dressed, but he refused to look. What he didn't know as he stood, staring at the floor, waiting, was that she had already finished getting dressed and seemed to be almost examining him.

"You're not like the others," she said, catching him off guard. He turned toward her and was met by her gaze.

"I, uh, what?" He had to have heard her wrong; that seemed like such an odd thing for her to say.

"It's almost like you actually care." He could feel his cheeks grow warm at this and hoped that he wasn't blushing visibly. As if caring was something to be ashamed of.

"Please try to get away from the Mafia," he said, knowing that it was a confirmation to her previous statement. Because for some reason that he didn't really understand, he really _did_ care what happened to her. Maybe it was because he could identify with her situation a little as they were both trapped with no way out, but if that was the case, he couldn't even begin to realize it.

"I can't." She was hesitant once more, though he couldn't blame her; he was sure that others didn't treat her with kindness very often. "They would kill me if I got caught," she finished slightly more quietly.

He tried to offer her a reassuring smile. He felt the exact same way. "I know, but the risk is worth it." He wasn't sure if she believed him, but as he spoke those words, he knew that he did. Regardless of if he and Matt had a future together, he had to get out.

And if they didn't have a future together? He couldn't allow himself to think like that. The first thing he had to do was figure a way out.

"If you get any sort of opportunity to leave, take it," he finished, hoping that she would take his advice even if he had no idea how he himself would leave and certainly didn't know how she could make it out.

She nodded once in earnest; it seemed as if, at least at that moment, she planned on taking his advice.

But she still didn't appear to have any intention of leaving the room, and it was the one thing he had asked of her. Deciding she must have forgotten that he had conveyed that he didn't want her there, he suggested again, though more gently this time, that she leave.

At these words, her features darkened again with worry. "Um, do you think I could stay here tonight?" she asked meekly. Although it was true that he did not want her there, that he wanted some time alone to think things over, he understood why she wouldn't want to leave; he was probably the first person to actually treat her like a fellow human being in a long while.

"…I suppose," he sighed, instantly feeling as if he regretted this decision. He didn't know how he was going to get anything figured out with her there.

He had barely gotten the words out before she had started thanking him. He didn't understand why one "thank you" wouldn't have sufficed but waited until she seemed to be done after the words had left her mouth at least six times. "I'll sleep on the floor," he offered.

"You don't have to," she said, but despite this, he wouldn't feel right about sleeping in the same bed as her, and he certainly couldn't make her sleep on the floor.

"No, I'm fine with the floor," he said, "Just throw me one of those pillows." She did so but still appeared to feel that he shouldn't have to. "It's late. Get some sleep." He got up and was about to flick the light switch off when he glanced back at her. She had laid down, but still looked at him with confusion. There was no way that she could have ever thought that this was how her night would have turned out.

He turned the light off and settled on the floor. It wasn't that he was actually tired, but he thought that if he pretended to sleep, he could lay there and decide on his next move.

"Good night," he heard unexpectedly as he stared up into the darkness.

"G'night," he responded. It was odd to him; he didn't even know this girl, had no connection to her other than what had been established that night, and yet, he was touched by those two simple words she had offered. The last person to have offered those words was Matt on the night before he had left.

"Oh, what's your name?" he asked, suddenly remembering his previous fixation with it.

"Cinnamon."

"Your real name?"

"… Holly."

He was surprised that she had actually given it to him, though he supposed that just because she was saying that that was her real name didn't mean that it was. "Good night, Holly," he said softly.

"Good night…Mello." He was surprised that she knew his name at first, but then remembered that probably every person in the hideout knew his name.

But there they were, those words again… Matt's last words to him.

He had felt like he had to sleep in the same bed as Matt that night and so had did his best to make sure they weren't fighting then. Not that he had actually slept. He couldn't. If he did, it would risk waking up too late. So instead he waited until he was certain that Matt had reached a deep sleep and had gotten back up, folded the note he had written beforehand around the band of Matt's goggles, and had left. Again.

He didn't know why he always ran away from his problems, but he hated himself for it. It made him feel like he was no better than his mother, leaving her son and her problems at that little Catholic orphanage back in Germany.

He had thought about her a lot during his time with the Mafia. It wasn't as if he wanted to, but rather, she kept creeping into his thoughts without warning. And all it did was make him angry. He did not want to revisit his hatred for her over and over; all he wanted to do was forget that she had ever existed.

He couldn't understand how she could have just left her son with strangers. He was certain that she must have been desperate, but he couldn't imagine any circumstances which would be so awful as to make her want to give up her son. He knew that if he ever had a child, that there would be nothing that would make him want to give it away. Absolutely nothing.

So every time he thought of her, it was with disdain. And every time he thought of her, he couldn't help but compare himself to her. Running away from his problems…he was no better. That was the truth; he was no better than her.

He had thought he could learn from his mistakes, but maybe he couldn't. Even with those awful scars as a reminder. Neither the appearance of the burn scars nor those he had gotten when he had left after that fight over a year ago had done anything to stop him.

He couldn't help but think that maybe it was part of his DNA, a terrible habit his mother had passed to him. Even though everything he knew about genetics told him that such things could not be passed through DNA, it still felt like it was because of her that he was like this. If she hadn't given this trait to him, he must have learned it from her. But he didn't even remember her; all he knew about her had come from Sister Katharina. Could have this habit been passed to him with only the knowledge of what she had done?

Or was he just blaming her for his flaws?

He didn't know, but he did know that he didn't want to think about this anymore. He was supposed to be figuring out an escape plan, but like every other time he had tried, his thoughts took over and dragged him away from the most pressing task at hand.

But when he started to think about everything, not just what he was supposed to be focusing on, but _everything_. He wasn't quite sure what was important anymore.

If his mother hadn't abandoned him, than he would have never ended up at Whammy's, would have never met Matt, would have never fallen in love with Matt. These were things that he couldn't ever regret, yet he still hated her for abandoning him. But if she hadn't left him, he would have never been able to leave Matt _twice_, would have never had the chance to hurt him…

At this he didn't know which was worse, and no matter how many times he thought things over, he just didn't know. He didn't know what he wanted and supposed he never really had. Everything he had done in his life just seemed like time wasted on things that didn't really matter.

If he could somehow get out and go back to Matt, he thought that there was a very good chance that Matt would want nothing to do with him. If that were the case, it would be better to just forget his life with Matt all together.

But then what was it for? Everything they had worked for would be for nothing. He didn't think that he could ever accept that, even if it were true. The time they had spent together absolutely could not have been pointless… it couldn't be… it couldn't…

The cross on his rosary was in his hand. He didn't know how long it had been there, but between then and the time he had laid down, it had found its way to his grasp.

He held it up, closer to his face than he normally would so that he could see it in the dark, looking it over. He had been acutely aware of it since he had started wearing it again…since he had left…

It seemed heavier than it had, or perhaps he had just forgotten what it felt like. After all, it had been a long while since he had hung it around his neck. Either way, he couldn't be sure.

But it had never felt like a burden before. He couldn't help but feel that it was the albatross from "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner;" he had made a mistake, and now he was stuck with a giant bird around his neck. Or at least, a figurative giant bird.

A small laugh sounded in the dark room, making him drop the rosary and clasp a hand over his mouth. He hadn't expected it and lay perfectly still for a moment, listening to see if the girl, Holly, had noticed. Rather, it seemed as if she were asleep given the soft sound of her deep breathing.

The smile came back to his lips remembering the time they had studied that poem at Whammy's. He had hated it, but that hadn't stop him from reading it probably close to fifteen times in the hope that he would be able to get a better grade than Near on the upcoming test it would be on.

_That_ was certainly wasted time. All that time he had spent trying to be number one at Whammy's for naught. Pages of the calendar wasted on something that hadn't even turned out to matter.

But again, like with his mother, could he really regret his time at Whammy's when it had lead him to Matt? He could never regret the time that he had spent with Matt, even if it _did_ end in failure, even if it _will_ end in failure. It wasn't over yet. He still wanted to try to make things work, that is, if he could ever get out of the prison he was trapped in.

If Matt would take him back.

He had done so much to hurt Matt that he doubted it, but he still had to try. He just wished that he wouldn't have topped everything off by cheating on him. _Almost_ cheating on him. He hadn't actually done anything, not _really_. So it shouldn't matter. But the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he thought about it told him otherwise.

It did matter, and he knew it. But that was something he could deal with later. Or not at all, if he chose. Matt didn't _need_ to know, and it would only hurt him further if he found out. It was Mello's problem if the guilt ate away at him, but it wouldn't hurt Matt, and that was the important thing.

So he wouldn't tell him. It was for the best.

It was for the best…

* * *

><p><strong>"Ancient Mariner" summary:<strong> This is a _very_ long poem, so I'm just going to give an overview of what's relevant. Basically, there is a Mariner on a ship with a crew. The wind blows the ship off course to the Antarctic which is obviously not a good thing. An albatross keeps circling the ship and the crew sort of views it as a good omen, and it even leads them out of the Antarctic, but then the Mariner shoots the albatross with his cross-bow and kills it. This angers the spirits which lead the ship to uncharted territory. So the ship is lost, and the crew is dying of thirst. Obviously the thing to do is make the Mariner wear the albatross on a rope around his neck. This illustrates the burden the Mariner must suffer for killing the albatross.

Other things that are relevant: The albatross is often considered to symbolize Christ or the Christian soul. Also, in the poem, it even says that the albatross is the Mariner's cross to bear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, like I said, I felt terrible about writing the first part of this chapter. But Mello didn't actually cheat on Matt, so that's good I suppose.

I wish I could say that the next chapter will be better, but it will probably be the saddest chapter. At least based on what I have planned now. I managed to finalize my plans for the content of each chapter as well as the music for each chapter, but naturally that will likely mean that I will change things another five times before I'm satisfied.

A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
>LoveUntilWeBleed, Midnightkisses10, TrickledFingers, SyC0bEaR, ILuvYa44, foreverunloved<p> 


	6. Chapter 5: Bruises

Rusted from the Rain by Billy Talent

**Chapter 5: Bruises **

The man, who was easily a foot taller and certainly more muscular than Matt, pushed him into the dimly lit room. The first thing he noticed when his eyes adjusted to the lighting after being out in the bright California sun were the other people in the room which appeared to be the central area of the hideout. He had to assume, based on their appearances, that these people were some of those who made up this particular branch of the Mafia.

The night before, he had made quite a bit of progress in his search for Mello's Mafia hideout. So much, in fact, that he was almost certain he had found it. But naturally, this so called 'search' had taken place exclusively in his apartment with the help of his laptop. So at two in the morning when he had come to this conclusion and had decided that it was definitely worth checking out the perimeter, he was not ready to go scout out a Mafia hideout. He was tired, and besides, it would probably be safer to wait until morning.

So he had tried to sleep for a few hours before he would have to get up. Which had turned into him tossing and turning for a couple hours until he could finally go to sleep. Since he hadn't gotten to sleep until around five, he had slept in later than he had hoped he would, leaving only a few hours before he had to be to work. It was cutting it a bit close, but he had figured that they would just have to deal with it if he were late. He hadn't planned on doing anything anyway, just looking around to get a feel for the layout so that when he did try to get in, he would have a better idea of an escape route in the case that he needed one. He honestly hadn't thought that being late to work would even really be an issue.

But then again, he hadn't planned on getting caught.

Matt looked around the room again, this time trying to see if there was any way out if he got the chance to run. Unfortunately, the doors he saw were all closed, giving him no indication if they would lead to a way out or a dead end. The only way he could be certain would provide him with an exit was the way from which he had come.

"Tell me your name," the man who had brought him to the room said in a gruff voice, and Matt felt a gun being held to the back of his head. The feeling of the metal pressed to his scull made his heart beat faster.

"Matt," he said quickly. He knew he should have given them a different name, but it was a little difficult to think in the situation he found himself in. Besides, it wasn't his real name anyway.

"Alright Matt, gimme one good reason why I shouldn't blow your fucking head off right now."

He swallowed thickly, trying to think of something. He only had once chance to answer correctly.

"You're running out of time," the man said, cocking the gun.

"I- I know Mello," he blurted out. He certainly hoped he had the right hideout or this wouldn't mean anything, and his life would be over.

The man lowered the gun slowly, allowing Matt an internal sigh of relief; he didn't dare give any indication of it.

"You," the man said, motioning to a woman with long blonde hair who had just entered the room, "get Mello. Tell him…he has a visitor," he finished, hitting Matt in the head with the butt of his gun. It seemed he was less than happy that he wouldn't get to kill someone.

Matt, however, was ecstatic that he had found Mello. This was certainly not how he had imagined meeting with him, but he supposed it was a step in the right direction. It was even possible that they could get out of there that day. If not, then soon. He didn't really care how long it took as long as he was with Mello again and could try to make things work between them. Besides, he was sure that being held captive by the Mafia was a good reason for not showing up to work.

The woman walked to one of the adjoining doors and pounded on it with her first. "Hey Mello, you got a visitor," she said. Not waiting for an answer, she walked over to the couch in the room and sat down next to a man who immediately draped his arm over her slim shoulders. It appeared that he was doing it out of habit rather that out of any affection for the woman. More accurately, it seemed he wasn't paying her any attention other than using her as an armrest.

It took a minute for the door to open, during which the man, still standing with his gun at the ready, took whatever chance he had to injure Matt further. Matt shifted his weight to his left foot, the man hit his shoulder with his gun, "Hold still." Matt yawned involuntarily, he received another blow to the head, "Be quiet," even though the yawn had made hardly any sound. He was certain that he would have some very large bruises by the end of the day.

Mello finally emerged from the room, looking annoyed. "What?" he barked out, and then froze when he saw Matt.

The man pushed Matt with his gun, making him stumble forward. "Says he knows you. Whad'ya want me to do with him, boss?"

For a moment, Mello simply stood there. He appeared to be shocked that Matt was there in front of him. But he quickly returned to the annoyed look he had walked out with. _It has to be an act; that's the only thing that makes sense. Mello will make up some excuse to talk to me in private, and we'll figure out how to get out of there and-_

"Get rid of him." Shock overtook Matt. He had to have heard him wrong. He couldn't mean that…

"You want me to kill him, boss?" Though Matt couldn't see the man's face, he could hear the joy in his voice.

"No!" Mello shouted out and then paused, "Just let him go. And don't bother me again." He turned around and disappeared into the room he had come from.

"Come on!" the man said, pushing Matt forward with his gun again. He led him back out the way they had come, holding him at gunpoint the entire way. Once they had stepped back out into the sunlight, Matt felt the pressure from the gun disappear from his back, and the man stepped from behind him and into Matt's view. "You see that car over there?" he said, motioning to the left. Matt did see the car. It looked fast. "Do you?" The man hit him across the face with the gun. Matt spat blood out on the ground and looked straight at him.

"Yes."

"The boss says I'm s'posed to let you go, so I'm gonna do that. You got thirty seconds to get out of here. You're free to go. But after thirty seconds, Imma come after you in that car, and if I catch up to you, Imma shoot you with this gun," he said, holding the gun an inch from Matt's face. "Run."

So Matt ran. He ran as fast as he possibly could in the direction he had come from earlier that day. He couldn't think of what Mello had said or how little it had seemed that he cared, he couldn't think of what he was going to do next, he just ran. It was as the muscles in his legs were starting to burn that he heard the engine of a car rev.

He pushed his legs forward, one after the other, willing himself to move faster. He stumbled once but recovered quickly.

For a second, he was immensely happy that he had stopped smoking. If he hadn't, he doubted that his lungs would have been able to handle this. And it had been because of Mello that he had quit…

He could feel tears start to burn behind his eyes. The only thing he could think about was the pain in the muscles of his legs. That's all he could allow himself.

He yanked his goggles down to around his neck and wiped his eyes furiously. He had to be able to see and couldn't afford to have his eyes tear up. If he couldn't see, he could more easily trip, and if he did, the couple seconds he would lose could mean the difference between escaping and getting caught.

He could hear the car approaching behind him.

He could see a road in the distance, the same one he had followed there. It wasn't a very busy road, but if someone came by, maybe the man wouldn't want to risk drawing attention to the area.

As he neared it, he saw a line of cars traveling down the road and felt the tiniest bit of hope. He was almost to the road and could see the little flags on the cars telling him that it was a funeral procession. He silently thanked whoever had died.

He reached the road and risked a glance back. The car was nowhere in sight, but he couldn't stop running, not if there was even the smallest chance that the man was still following him.

He ran along the side of the road next to the cars as if racing them. But he couldn't keep up with them, and they all passed him, leaving him to continue down the road on his own.

He only slowed down when it felt like his lungs were about to burst. He didn't know how close to the city he was getting, but based on the houses that were appearing along the road, he must have been getting close.

• • •

"Matt, you're an hour late!" he heard as he stepped into the bookstore. He looked up from the ground to see Amy standing behind the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. He didn't care that he was late. He _couldn't_ care that he was late. He was having a hard time caring about anything.

Once he had gotten into town, he didn't know what he was supposed to do next. He felt like going back to the apartment and sleeping forever, but just because Mello didn't want him back and this entire trip had been pointless, that didn't change the fact that he still needed money. So he had got on the bus and headed for work.

"Oh my God, Matt! What happened?" It was difficult for him to concentrate on the words that she spoke. He heard them, but it was like they had no meaning.

She jumped up from the stool she had been sitting on behind the counter and ran to the back room, reemerging with a role of paper towels in hand.

She hesitated a moment and grabbed the stool from behind the counter, sitting it near him. "Sit down," she said. He did so. "What happened? You're bleeding."

He was bleeding. Was he?

She ripped off a piece from the paper towel roll and dabbed his lip. That's right…his lip was bleeding…

"Matt," she said, this time holding his chin up gently so that he had to look at her, "What happened?"

"I…" he started, but he didn't know where to go from there. "I…" he tried again. Still nothing. He looked down at his hands in his lap. "Mello left me." It wasn't an answer to her question, rather a realization. Mello had left him, and he wasn't coming back. Ever.

"Mello? Who's Mello?" she asked softly.

She was talking to him again. He was supposed to respond. "No one."

"Did…Mello do this to you?"

"No." He wished she would stop asking him questions. Maybe going to work had been a bad idea.

"Matt, I'm trying to help you. What happened?"

He looked at her, still unsure how to answer. He didn't know exactly what had happened. It all seemed like a blur; it was hard for him to focus on it.

"Okay, it's fine if you don't want to answer," she said. Rather than it sounding like she was getting fed up with him, her voice sounded earnest; she really didn't care if he answered. "Let's go get some ice or something for that bruise.

Bruises… he had bruises… He had forgotten.

She handed him the paper towel, which he took from her and held to his lip, before going behind the counter and grabbing her purse and the store keys. "Come on," she said. When he didn't move from the stool, she took his hand and led him towards the door. He didn't protest. She locked the door behind her, and they were walking down the sidewalk. He watched his feet move, but couldn't feel them. It was more like the sidewalk was passing under him than like he was walking over it

He could smell Italian food. His stomach growled. "I'm hungry," he said, more as an observation than anything else. He hadn't eaten anything all day and didn't know what time it was. Not that it mattered. It was only an observation, nothing else.

"Do you want to eat here?"

He looked up at the building the smell was coming from. "No." Italian food…spaghetti… He couldn't do that, not now.

"How 'bout someplace else then? Do you like Chinese food? I know this great place near here." It sounded like she was talking to a young child to his ears.

"Sure." He didn't care if he ate or not, but if it would get her to stop asking him questions, he would.

She continued talking about something, maybe the food there? But he didn't pay attention. Her ever sunny disposition had never been more annoying. He couldn't understand how someone could be happy at that moment. He figured she was trying to distract him from what she perceived as sadness. It was more that he was numb.

He was surprised when they were entering a building before remembering that they were supposed to be getting something to eat. Someone asked them if they would like to sit outside. It seemed strange to him. He had never been to a Chinese restaurant where eating outside was an option.

Amy looked to him. "Sure," he said. He would feel less confined outside.

They sat down at a little table with an umbrella and menus were placed in front of them. He looked down at the menu. This appeared to be more of an Asian fusion restaurant than a Chinese restaurant, but he saw no reason to correct her.

The waiter came and asked what they would like to drink. He didn't care; he didn't respond. Amy had to order for him.

When the drinks came, an ice water was put in front of him. He picked it up and held it to the side of his face. It was really starting to hurt.

"Here." She was holding up a napkin that she must have dipped in her water, as it was half wet, and a small mirror. His lip must have been bleeding again. He took both and wiped off his lip and chin. His face didn't look like his own in the mirror. The right side was badly bruised, and his lip was split and still bleeding. The napkin was stained red when he pulled it away.

The waiter came back and asked what they would like to eat. Amy ordered for both of them again.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" she asked. He looked up at her. She was lighting a cigarette.

He couldn't take his eyes off of it. He hadn't felt like smoking in a very long time, but now that it was in front of him, it seemed appealing. Smoking had been a way to take his mind off of anything that was bothering him, and that was what he needed then, something to distract himself.

"Oh, do you want one?" she asked him, apparently noticing his fixation, "I didn't think you smoked."

"…I don't." He watched as the smoke trailed up into the air, watched her flick the cinders into the ashtray on the table, watched as the cinders died.

He wanted to feel better. He hated this feeling, or this lack of feeling, like he was a shell. Maybe it would help. If it would…

"I…"

"Yes?" She looked hopeful, like she had finally gotten through to him.

"I changed my mind. Give me a cigarette."

She paused a moment, looking at him, but then returned to her purse, drawing the pack of cigarettes from it and holding it out to him. He took one, examining it and the hand that held it. It fit between his fingers so easily. It almost felt like he had never quit.

She held up the lighter for him, but he didn't extend his hand to light the cigarette. Instead he stared at the small flame.

It felt like there was something on his cheek. He wiped it away with his palm. His hand was wet.

More tears followed, rolling silently down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away too, but there were too many. Giving up, he propped his elbows up on the table and leaned his forehead on his hands, unlit cigarette still held between his middle and index fingers.

"Mello isn't coming back." He stared down at the table watching as the little water droplets rained down on it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked for what felt like the millionth time.

"No." A part of him did want to get what he was feeling off of his chest, but he also didn't want to give this girl, whom he barely knew, his whole life story.

Their food came. The waiter left it on the table without a word. If the waiter knew enough not to say anything, he knew that there was something wrong, and if he knew, other people could probably tell too. It made Matt feel like people were staring at them. He didn't care.

"I'll never see him again." He felt the cigarette being slid from between his fingers. He looked up. Amy had taken it back and returned it to the pack. She took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"It's going to be okay," she said. Clearly she didn't know what she was talking about.

"No, it's not," he said, looking straight at her for the first time since he had walked into the bookstore, "I gave up everything to come here and get him back. And now he doesn't even want to try to fix things. I have no money, I live in a shitty apartment, I literally have nothing. I wasted _everything_ on him. How can you say things are going to be okay?"

"Because there's always hope," she said, offering a small half smile.

Hope. The only thing he could hope for was to forget that he and Mello had ever been together, that Mello had ever even existed. That was his only hope.

Even if the bruises would eventually disappear, he doubted that the impressions left in his mind from that day ever would.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** First of all, my beta hasn't been responding, and I wasn't going to wait forever to post this so I'm sorry if there were more mistakes than normal in this chapter. I read over it a couple extra times, but it's just so easy to overlook mistakes when you already know exactly what it's supposed to say.

Like I said in my author's note for the last chapter, this is in my opinion the saddest chapter of the story, which means things should be better from here on out. Well, sort of.

I'll be posting the next chapter early, probably early to mid-week rather than weekend. I've actually already written it, and all I need to do is edit it. My reasoning for wanting it out early is because it overlaps with this chapter. It's basically this same timeframe, but from Mello's perspective, so I wanted to make sure that there was a smaller gap between when these two chapters were posted so that people would have the events of this chapter fresh in their minds.

Plus, if I post the next chapter early, that gives me the rest of the week to start writing "Neon Hearts." My goal is to have the first chapter out in about a week and a half.

One last thing. See the list of people who reviewed below? See how short that list is? Reviews have been getting kind of sparse lately. Please guys, tell me what you think. Believe it or not, the more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to write. Plus, on occasion, someone brings up something that I would have never thought of, and it actually helps my writing. So the moral of the story is, more reviews means a happier writer, and a happy writer is a productive writer.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:**  
>death2society, TrickledFingers, SyC0bEaR, Midnightkisses10<p> 


	7. Chapter 6: Plans

Same Dumb Excuse (Nothing to Lose) by Forever the Sickest Kids

**Chapter 6: Plans**

Mello lay out on the bed on his back. Rather than having the pillow under his head, he had placed it over his face as it could block out the light better than his arm. He could have just as easily turned off the light before he had laid down, but then he might actually fall asleep. He couldn't let himself use sleep as an escape yet again; he felt that he had been doing that too much lately.

He still hadn't thought of a way out and was starting to think that he never would. For that matter, he was beginning to lose hope, not only on figuring how to get out, but of life on the outside itself. Maybe it was that he didn't know if there would be anyone on the outside waiting for him. If Matt never wanted to see him again… there was no point. He might as well stay where he was.

But if he knew for certain that Matt still wanted to try to make things work… he would do absolutely anything to get him back.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. Or, more of someone pounding than knocking. "Hey Mello, you got a visitor," came the annoying voice of one of the women.

He groaned and rolled over. He couldn't imagine who could be there that would qualify as a visitor. It's not like people just stopped by to say 'Hello.' The only ones who were ever there were the Mafia, the women, and the occasional hostage. No one else.

This was probably just going to end up being more trouble for him. Whoever it was, they were going to want him to deal with them; otherwise they wouldn't have even bothered to tell him.

He didn't want to deal with anything else. He couldn't. This wasn't the life he wanted, and he wasn't going to keep pretending that it was, not to himself and not to the Mafia. He knew it would be suicide, but was that honestly so bad? He couldn't go on pretending which meant they would end up killing him. That is, unless he could find a way out, but he didn't know if that was ever going to happen.

He didn't really have any options left. His life was in their hands. And he was surprisingly okay with this. He had all but given up.

He sighed and pushed himself up from the bed. The problem was that he didn't know if he could just give up right then and let them kill him. He wasn't that brave.

Walking to the door, he tried his best to make himself look angry about them bothering him. If he wasn't brave enough to give up, he would have to continue to put on a fake front.

He threw the door open and stepped out. "What?" he barked out. Even to his own ears he sounded honestly angry about the situation. He was really getting good at acting the part.

It was Matt.

Matt was standing no more than a few yards from him. This couldn't be real; this had to be a dream or something. Matt would never come here, would he? Even if he did, he wouldn't let himself get caught.

But this didn't feel like a dream. Everything was too real, too vivid. And he would never have dreamt that Matt would have come all this way to rescue him. That was something too optimistic even for his dreams.

Matt stumbled forward. Only then did he notice the man holding Matt at gunpoint who must have been the one to have pushed him. Mello's heart skipped a beat. It was way too dangerous for Matt to be there.

"Says he knows you. Whad'ya want me to do with him, boss?" the man said. What was he supposed to do with Matt? For starters, he should stop holding that gun to his back like he wanted to kill him. But he couldn't say that, nor could he say that the Mafia should just let them leave together. No, the closest thing he could get to that was to make them let Matt go.

"Get rid of him," he said, trying to get back to that angry tone he had used when he had first come out of his room. He wasn't quite there, but he did at least sound annoyed.

He could see shock overtake Matt, and he felt terrible about it. He was sure that if Matt had actually come all the way here, he wasn't expecting Mello to reject him. Seeing that hurt look on Matt's face made him hate himself, but there was nothing else he could do at that moment.

"You want me to kill him, boss?" the man asked him, sounding hopeful.

"No!" he said quickly, kicking himself for his previous word choice. Of course 'Get rid of him' sounded like he wanted them to kill Matt. At least in the Mafia it was obvious that that's what it would sound like especially considering that the person in question had found their hideout. It was probably standard protocol to kill someone who found their hideout. "Just let him go. And don't bother me again," he finished, trying to remain calm. Hopefully they would follow his orders and let Matt go. They had to. He was the one with the most authority there, after all.

He turned around and went back into his room. He closed the door behind him, locking it as always, and began to pace the room because, somehow, pacing felt more productive than sitting back down on the bed.

He wished that he wouldn't have had to make Matt leave, but it was better that way. It was just too dangerous for Matt to be there. If he hadn't, if he would have actually been able to pull Matt aside and talk to him without anyone overhearing, they still would have been suspicious which would have only made things worse for Matt.

Mello hadn't exactly been keeping up his façade very well lately, and he knew that they were starting to lose any trust they had had in him. Maybe if he had, it would have been less risky to talk to Matt. But earlier that day, even ten minutes ago, it wouldn't have mattered. Ten minutes ago, it didn't matter it they trusted him or not, it didn't matter if they killed him or not. But that was ten minutes ago…

He and Matt hadn't even exchanged one word, but that didn't matter. Matt had gone to the trouble of finding him. He really did want Mello back, and the knowledge of this made all the difference. It gave him hope.

However, it also made him feel bad about how he had acted. All this time, he had been certain that Matt must have hated him for leaving again, and then he had proved him wrong. Or, at least, it appeared so. Mello knew that Matt was probably angry with him for leaving, but it didn't seem like he hated him.

But he probably did after the way he had acted in front of him. There was no way for Mello to know exactly what Matt had been thinking as he stood there, but he was certain that it must have seemed to Matt like he didn't care at all. It might have even seemed like all the work Matt had put into finding him had been a waste of time.

He couldn't help but worry that Matt really did hate him after seeing him act like he didn't want anything to do with him. But he had spent too much time worrying about things that might not even be true. Rather, he had to figure out how he was going to find Matt again. All this time he had been trying to think of some grand escape plan while he should have been thinking of how to contact Matt. Matt was his escape plan.

He wished that he could just call or text Matt, but he had lost his cell phone somewhere between leaving the house and rejoining the Mafia. Or maybe he had forgotten to pack it or even had subconsciously left it there on purpose so that Matt would have no way to contact him. He couldn't be sure, but either way, he wished that he had it there with him.

It didn't matter. He couldn't waste his time on pointless wishes anymore. He couldn't call Matt so there was no reason to think about it anymore.

So if he couldn't call him, what could he do? It's not like he could just wander around the LA area until he found Matt even if he could manage to get out, and he really had no other way of locating him.

But the Mafia did. They could probably find him easily. It would be risky, but then again, the entire idea of trying to leave the Mafia was risky. They would have to take their chances. Well, Mello would have to take his chances, and Matt would have to go along with it. Matt really wouldn't have any say in deciding if he was taken captive by the Mafia.

That's what it would have to be. If he could get the Mafia to find Matt and bring him there, they could talk things over and figure how to get Mello out.

But he still had to make the Mafia trust him again, or at least trust him more than they did now. Otherwise he could have just done all this that day. He _so_ wished that was the case. It would have made everything so much easier.

It was his own fault, and he knew it. If he could have just held out a little longer, kept pretending instead of just letting his façade crack and fall apart. If he had, it would have been possible to talk with Matt. He was the only one to blame for not keeping things together long enough. It made him feel pathetic.

But again, he didn't want to think of things that didn't matter. He had given up, and this was the consequence. But he would deal with it, and hopefully by the end of the week, he would be able to see Matt again. He didn't know if they would trust him enough to find some guy whom they really didn't know his connection to without any explanation of why they needed to bring him to the hideout. Sure, he could make up some sort of reason for why they needed to bring him there, but he also needed them to let him go. He didn't know what explanation would give them a reason to allow him to go.

But they had just let him go, and all Mello had to do was tell them to… Now that he thought about it, it had seemed too easy… What if they hadn't actually let him go?

He ran to the door and opened it, looking around the room for the man he had entrusted Matt's life with. He didn't see him, but his entrance had made everyone in the room look in his direction.

Then he heard a door open and turned to see the man walk back in. "Where is he?" Mello demanded.

"Who? That puny redhead?" the man asked unconcerned.

"Who the fuck do you think I mean?" Mello yelled at him.

"I let'em go like ya told me, boss."

"And he was still alive when you let him go?" Mello had to make sure. This guy's utter lack of concern for the entire situation had him worried, not to mention how happy he had sounded when he had thought Mello had wanted him to kill Matt.

"I roughed him up a bit, but he'll live," he replied with a shrug.

"Good," Mello said though there were a few other less positive sounding adjectives he would use to describe what he thought of what the man had done. Compared to him, Matt really was 'puny' and 'roughed him up a bit' could have just as easily meant that Matt had a broken leg as it could mean he had a black eye. "Find out where he lives, and keep an eye on him. He knows where the hideout is," he finished. This was the excuse he had been looking for.

"We're not moving to somewhere else, boss?" Under 'normal' circumstances, if someone discovered the hideout, that person would have been first tortured to try to find out if anyone else knew that they were there and then killed. They would then move regardless of if it seemed like there were other people who knew where they were or not as a precaution.

"Are you questioning my authority?" Mello asked, stepping forward and doing his best to sound intimidating. In truth, he was terrified. If Matt was considered 'puny' next to this man, Mello wasn't much better. He was only about an inch taller than Matt and only slightly more muscular.

"Not at all." The way he said it sounded sarcastic, but there was little else Mello could do.

"Good. Get to work. I want someone tailing him 24/7 to make sure he doesn't create any problems for us." He was more or less talking to the entire room at this point in the hope that someone more cooperative than this man would follow his orders. "Got it?" he addressed the man specifically.

"Yeah," he said, sounding less than thrilled. Mello glanced back at the other people in the room and then returned to his room, slamming the door.

He was so proud of himself. He had actually pulled that off. He had not only managed to set up a way to contact Matt, but had done so in what he thought was a pretty convincingly Mafia boss-like way.

This made things immensely easier. All he would have to do now is wait for them to find Matt, let them follow him around for a couple days, and then ask someone to bring him there. He didn't even need a reason why. The fact that they thought he was suspicious of Matt was reason enough to have them "kidnap" him.

He just hoped Matt wouldn't be too mad at him. He would be a fool to think that Matt wouldn't be, but he hoped that this wouldn't push Matt over the edge and make him hate him. That was the one thing that he feared about this plan, the only thing he had ever really feared. He couldn't change what he had done in the past, he couldn't take back leaving or acting like he didn't care when Matt had found his way to the Mafia hideout, so however Matt felt because of those things couldn't be changed. The only question was if Matt would forgive him.

Every other time Mello had done something stupid or reckless, Matt had always forgiven him. But what if this was just too much? And he felt that having the Mafia kidnap him wouldn't help his case any.

That was ridiculous. He had to tell himself that was ridiculous. He had to stay positive. After all, he had made more progress in the past hour than he had since he had gotten there. It had to be a step in the right direction.

He grabbed a bar of chocolate from the small table in the room and ripped the wrapper down, taking a bite and sitting on the edge of the bed. There was nothing else he could do. This was the best plan he had, the only plan he had, and so this was what he was going to do. Matt would forgive him; Mello knew that he would.

For the first time in a long while, he felt truly happy. It had been a very long time. Not since before Takahashi-san had gotten sick. That had been what had started it all.

But he and Matt would have time to work everything out. A part of him knew that it would be a lot of work getting back to the way things had been, but the other part of him was too busy imagining how wonderful it would be to be with Matt again to take notice.

He missed Matt tremendously and couldn't wait to see him again. At that moment, he couldn't fathom why he would ever leave Matt or how he could have ever thought that they would never be able to fix things.

But he did realize that he was perhaps being a little too idealistic. Everything depended on whether or not Matt accepted his apology and forgave him. And he honestly didn't know if he could forgive himself for wasting this time away from Matt.

And there was no way he could ever forgive himself if Matt didn't forgive him and their life together really was over.

There was the possibility that Matt wouldn't forgive him, but in that moment, it did not seem likely to Mello. As long as he could explain himself to Matt, he was certain that he would understand his reasoning for having the Mafia kidnap him and about how he had acted that day.

But there was nothing to explain about his leaving.

If Matt had gone to the trouble of finding him, he had to have forgiven Mello, right? Besides, the last time Mello had left, Matt had come to help him when he had called, no questions asked. It had almost been as if there was nothing to be forgiven for, like he had done nothing wrong in the first place.

It was only later he found out how much his leaving had hurt Matt.

It wouldn't have that affect on him this time. Matt was stronger now… he hoped.

But there was no use worrying about such things. In a couple days he would be able to see Matt again. That's what he had to focus on. Not what could happen, but what was going to happen. Otherwise he would drive himself mad trying to answer all the what ifs running through his mind.

He was going to see Matt in a few days, and things were going to be fine. He had to convince himself of that and that this was a good thing no matter what would happen. And it was.

Besides, even if he was still mad at him, it wasn't like _Matt_ was going to leave _him_. That was just ridiculous.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So there's Mello's side of the story. Sadly, I will not be posting chapter 7 for a little while. Well, actually, it'll be out when I had originally intended it to, but since I posted this chapter early, there will be a 1.5 week gap instead of the normal one week.

Also, thank you so much to foreverunloved who volunteered to fill in as my beta. I really can't express how much I appreciate this so another thank you will have to suffice. :)

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>ILuvYa44, Midnightkisses10, SyC0bEaR, foreverunloved, TrickledFingers


	8. Chapter 7: Second Chances

You Left Me by The Maine

**Chapter 7: Second Chances**

The man shoved Matt into the room. He wished that he wouldn't be so rough; Matt still hadn't healed completely from his last encounter with him a couple days before.

He grabbed the collar of Matt's shirt and dragged him to the door of what Matt assumed to be Mello's room. "Mello, I got him," he yelled through the door. Seconds later, the door was flung open to reveal the blond with the same annoyed verging on angry look he had displayed the last time Matt had seen him.

"Thanks. I can take it from here," Mello said before grabbing Matt's arm and forcing him into the room. The door was slammed behind him, and Mello released his grip on Matt only to fling his arms around him. "Are you okay? Why do you have that bruise? What happened?" he questioned, almost sounding panicked.

Matt was stunned. When the blindfold had been put over his eyes and he had been forced into the car, he hadn't known what to expect but certainly not this. He had known that it had to do with the Mafia as he recognized the voice of the man who was responsible for the bruise that still covered the right side of his face. He had figured it was on Mello's command that he was being kidnapped, so he had cooperated. After all, there were a few things he wanted to tell Mello, and until that moment, he had assumed that he would never have the chance to.

He pushed Mello away more forcefully that he had intended. "This bruise," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "is from your stupid crony. You know, the man who so kindly brought me here to see you." He could feel as the anger bubbled up in him but didn't want to release it quite yet; he wanted to hear why exactly Mello had brought him there first.

"I'm so sorry," Mello apologized, trying again to hug him. It was infuriating to see Mello act like that, like saying sorry would do anything to help.

"No, Mello," he started, this time shoving Mello away from him as hard as he could. Mello stumbled backwards slightly, looking stunned. "You're not sorry. If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done that to me. You wouldn't have fucking told that asshole to get rid of me and that you didn't want to see me!" He was yelling at this point, losing what was left of his inhibitions. So much for keeping his feelings in check.

"I never said that I didn't want to see you." Mello's voice was quiet; a stark difference to Matt's.

"You didn't have to. You made it pretty clear."

"Mattie…"

"Don't call me Mattie. Don't act like you care when you don't." He could see how his words hurt Mello; it was written all over his face. But he didn't care. He wanted to hurt Mello after what he had done to him.

"Just let me explain," Mello said, trying to take his hand, but Matt wouldn't let him.

"Explain what? How you're sorry, and you didn't mean to hurt me? Sorry isn't going to cut it this time Mello. Here, how about I explain something to you. You left me. _Again_. Do you have any fucking idea how much that hurt? But it didn't matter. I decided I wasn't going to just give up on us like you did. I gave up _everything_ to come here in the hope that you would actually want to try to make things work. And then when I _do_ find you, you act like you couldn't give a damn if I was even alive or dead. You know, when I was brought into the hideout, I had some sort of crazy idea that you would actually be happy to see me, that everything I gave up would seem worth it. Until then, I was so mad at you, but I wanted to give you a second chance because I still loved you and wanted to try to fix things.

"But when I was standing there, waiting for you to come out of your room, I was just so excited to finally be able to see you again. I was ready to forgive you for everything right then, but I didn't get the chance. Instead you sent me away and broke my heart again. I could deal with you leaving me; that's just what you do, run away when things get tough, but not with how you acted. Once I actually got away from here and had time to think about things, I had a fucking breakdown. Because. Of. _You_. But I got over it, decided that you weren't worth it and that I was getting as far away from you as I could as soon as I had the money for a plane ticket.

"And then, to top everything off, you have the Mafia kidnap me. Really, what made you think that was a good idea?" he said with a small laugh. He had stopped yelling, but he was no less angry. The rage he felt still flowed under his skin like a fever that consumed his entire body. "Sometimes I don't understand how you could have even gotten second at Whammy's; you are such a fucking idiot."

"Please, Matt. Let me explain…"

"Okay, I get it now. You thought that if you could explain your stupidity, that I would just come crawling back like nothing ever happened." Mello's expression changed ever so slightly, letting him know that he was right. "Sorry to break it to you, but I'm not the same person who came running back when you needed me after you blew yourself up. If there is one thing I learned from all this, it's that I don't need you anymore; I'm stronger than that. Funny thing is, you taught me to be like this. Looks like that backfired."

"Matt," Mello tried to start, running his hand down Matt's arm lightly.

"Stop trying to touch me. I don't want you anywhere near me," he said, pushing Mello away from him. He fell backwards onto the bed. Matt could see tears in the corners of his eyes as he sat there looking up at him, and he loved it. He wanted to hurt Mello so badly, to make him feel the pain he had. He could never recall feeling as angry as he did then.

He suddenly stepped towards Mello and grabbed his arm, forcing him to his feet. He grabbed a fist full of Mello's hair and smashed his lips to the blond's. He forced his tongue between Mello's lips, dominating over Mello like he never had before. The passion and love that had been in their kisses was no longer present, only an anger that bordered on violence.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss as abruptly as it had started, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Is that what you were looking for? Happy now?"

The stunned look on Mello's features evaporated and was quickly replaced by one of anger to match Matt's. "All I wanted was the chance to apologize and to explain myself, and you won't even give me that. Look, I know you're upset, but would you shut up for one goddamn second and listen to what I have to say?"

Matt was slightly taken aback by Mello's sudden change in attitude. He would have never expected Mello to be as submissive as he had been, but now that he seemed to be back to his old self, it almost seemed equally odd for him to be assertive. "By all means."

"That's better. I-"

"What do you mean 'that's better?' You liked it better when I didn't stand up for myself and just blindly followed your every command, didn't you?"

"At least then you would have at least given me the chance to speak."

"Okay, whatever," Matt said, rolling his eyes, "Go. Please tell me how _you_ were the victim in all this."

"Matt, if you would just shut up for like two seconds you would already know that I'm not trying to make it sound like I'm the victim."

"I'm listening," Matt said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. This was going to be interesting.

"I'm sorry for leaving-" Matt snorted at this. Nothing about anything that had happened led him to believe that Mello was actually sorry. Mello sighed heavily, giving Matt a look of contempt. "You don't have to believe me, just let me tell my fucking side of the story."

"Fine," Matt said with a shrug.

"I know I'm an ass for leaving you again." Matt was shocked; he'd expected Mello to only make excuses. "What? Didn't expect me to own up to my mistakes?"

"No," he said simply, wishing his surprise hadn't been so obvious; he would have to be more careful of that.

"I may not learn from my mistakes Matt, but I do realize when I make them. …I know I need to work on that."

"So leaving was a mistake then?" He was still cautious to believe anything Mello said, but something in his voice almost led him to believe Mello's words.

"Yes. And I know there is nothing I can say that will make it all right, but-" He stopped suddenly. "Matt, what exactly is that smirk for?" he asked, his voice taking on a note of irritation.

"Nothing. I just… didn't expect this, that's all. Not now anyway. Actually, this is more what I thought it would be like last time I was here."

"About that… It's not that I didn't care. I was worried that they didn't trust me and that they would be suspicious if I wanted to talk to you in private. I didn't want to endanger you…"

"Well, that worked well," Matt said sarcastically, turning so that the bruised side of his face was more clearly visible to Mello.

"At least you're alive."

"Ha, yes, alive. After I had to run for my life." The confusion that clouded Mello's features told him that he had no idea of what had happened. "The same guy who gave me this," he pointed to the bruise, "chased me off the property in a car and threatened to shoot me if he caught me." Mello's eyes widened.

"I told him not to kill you," Mello said, visibly becoming angry again.

"I'm not actually dead, so-"

"So nothing! God, I need to get out of here!" Matt started laughing; he should have seen it earlier.

"What?"

"I see what you're after," Matt said quietly.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Why you had them kidnap me. And you almost had me convinced that you actually _do_ care. You just want me to help you escape." He couldn't believe that he had been so gullible; Mello didn't care about him, he just wanted to use him.

"No! I mean, yes I-"

"Exactly. Yes, that's it. Forget it Mello. Why should I help you?"

"Because I still love you," Mello blurted out.

"…" He didn't know what to believe anymore. Or for that matter, what he wanted. The second Mello had said those words, he wanted to help him, and wanted him back. But he didn't trust Mello anymore and didn't want to be hurt again.

"Please?" Mello whispered, taking a step in Matt's direction. He hesitated a second and then closed the remaining distance between them. He cupped Matt's cheek in his hand, running his thumb over the discoloration. The distorted skin of his scar mirrored the black and blue marks that his mistake had left on Matt. "Please?"

Matt turned away; he couldn't do this. He could see the emotion in Mello's eyes and knew that, at least at that moment, Mello truly was sorry. But that didn't change a thing.

"I'll help you, but I can't get back together with you." He almost thought the confusion on Mello's face that these words produced funny. Mello hadn't changed at all. "I can't believe it. You really did think I would just forgive you that easily."

"I don't even get a second chance?"

"I've given you second and third and fourth and fifth chances. It's too late, Mello. I can't do this anymore."

"But…"

"But, what? Didn't think _I_ could leave _you_?"

"…" Mello's silence was all the answer he needed.

"Didn't think so." He pushed past Mello and sat on the edge of the bed. "So where is your brilliant escape plan?"

"Um…" He had never seen Mello so defeated, and he felt a twinge of guilt seeing that look on Mello's face, but he had made up his mind.

"Don't tell me you wanted me to do that too. Really? I mean, how long have you had to figure these things out? About a month now?" he said, flopping back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"No, I-" Mello sighed and started over. "Okay, there are two ways out. If you can hack into the security system and knock the cameras out for even a couple minutes, I can probably find a way to get out without being noticed if I can set up some sort of diversion. Park as close to the building as you can without being seen. Then-"

"Mello, I don't have a car," Matt said, continuing to examine the ceiling.

"What happened to your Camaro?"

"I didn't have the money to bring it over here, and I didn't have enough to buy one once I got here."

"What happened to the money I left in the bank account?"

Matt looked up at Mello in surprise. He couldn't believe that Mello actually thought that would be sufficient. "It didn't exactly last long."

"So how much do you have?"

He pulled out his wallet and opened it. "Looks like about seven bucks."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, I didn't have a free place to live or free food like you did," he said, returning his wallet to his pocket and lying back down, placing his hands behind his head.

"Okay, well if you don't have a car, how'd you get out here before?"

"Took the bus and then walked the rest of the way."

"In that case, there is another abandoned building just north of here. I'll meet you there and pick you up on my motorcycle."

"Why do I have to come anywhere near here? I can hack into the security system from my apartment."

"Because… I'll be driving. I'll need you to carry something."

"What do you even have with you?"

"Everything I brought here with me," Mello said, nodding in the direction of his duffle bag that sat in the corner.

"So you want me to carry my laptop, your duffle bag, _and_ not fall off the back of the motorcycle. Great," he said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"It'll be fine. All we have to do is get to your apartment. It isn't far from here, is it?"

Matt sat up and looked at Mello. "No, it's not far, but who said you could stay there?"

"I just assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say about people who assume."

"But I don't have anywhere else to live."

"Not my problem. I said I don't want to get back together with you. Living together is going to feel an awful lot like we're a couple again."

"When we first moved into the house in Hokkaido, we weren't a couple. We can sleep in different rooms like we did then. You can pretend like I'm not even there if you want."

"Trust me. That won't be possible," Matt said flatly.

"I'll get a job and pay half the rent. Come on, Matt. You're broke; can you really turn me away when I'm willing to pay half the rent?"

Mello was right; no matter how much he thought he would end up regretting it, he couldn't turn that down. "Fine," he sighed, "but I work tomorrow. We'll have to do this after my shift ends. I was late last time I visited, and today I was on my way to work when I was so kindly escorted here. If I miss anymore work, I'll probably be fired."

"What time does your shift end?"

"Four, so we'll say at five I'll take the cameras out and you do whatever you have to."

"Okay," Mello said, offering Matt a small smile. "I suppose you, uh, want to get out of here now?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, I don't care to hang out here anymore," he said, getting to his feet. He followed Mello to the door and was surprised when Mello stopped and turned towards him.

"Matt… I've missed you," Mello said, a sad look on his face.

"Yeah, I missed you too." He watched as a small, hopeful smile came to Mello's lips. "But not anymore."

Mello nodded slowly and turned back to the door, pushing it open. They stepped out into the main room, and he called the same man who had thus far been in charge of Matt over to them. "You are going to escort my friend here off the property, and if I hear that he is hurt anymore, I will personally see to it that you pay the proper compensation," he said, pulling out his gun and holding it to the man's chest. "Got it?" He cocked the gun for emphasis.

"Yeah, boss. Got it." The man didn't really seem fazed by the threat, but rather than physically forcing Matt out of the room as it seemed that he would have, he only started in the direction of the exit. When Matt didn't immediately follow, he turned around and growled out "Come on!"

Matt quickly caught up to him. Though there was a good chance that he wouldn't be treated so kindly once they were out of Mello's view, he thought it would be more likely if he didn't cooperate then.

"After you, princess," the man spat out, holding the door open for him. As soon as the door was closed, the man dropped the act. Though, this time, he stuck to pushing Matt around rather than doing anything that would leave a mark. To Matt's surprise, the man actually followed Mello's instructions, dropping him off at the edge of the city.

He walked to the nearest bus stop, contemplating what had happened. He wasn't too happy with the idea of living with Mello again, but he would have to deal with it. He just hoped that the half of the rent that Mello said he would pay would be worth it.

But of everything that had happened, he kept going back to Mello wanting a second chance. He couldn't believe Mello had even asked. He didn't deserve anymore second chances.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Finally we have an actual dialogue between the two of them! Perhaps not what you were expecting, but this is a major turning point in the story. Believe it or not, this is progress. :)

And in case anyone who is interested didn't see, I actually posted the first chapter of "Neon Hearts." I'm really happy with how the first chapter turned out, and I'm really exited to write more of it. But no worries, I still plan to post one chapter of 'Cinders' a week like normal.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>SyC0bEaR, ILuvYa44, TrickledFingers, Rebecca, Midnightkisses10, death2society, TormentedDreams


	9. Chapter 8: Escape

Kiss with a Fist by Florence + The Machine

**Chapter 8: Escape**

Mello looked at the clock on the wall. It was ten to five, and he was starting to get nervous. Or at least more nervous than he had been.

Once Matt had left the day before, Mello had made the announcement that they would be moving to a different hideout as a way to keep everyone busy the next day. He had assigned the task of scouting out the new hideout to those who he thought would be most perceptive and, therefore, the most problematic during his escape. They weren't even currently in the building, so that _should_ have made him feel better… but it didn't.

Since they were supposed to be moving, security was heightened to ensure that nothing of value was misplaced or stolen in the slight chaos that came with preparing everything for them to leave. Even so, he knew that Matt would be able to take the security cameras out; it just worried him how long they would stay down. He would just have to have faith in him; at that point, his life was in Matt's hands.

He had made as many preparations as he could – assigning those who had been tailing Matt a different job, telling the women to stay out of the way and therefore out of sight while they got ready for the move, having more people keep an eye on the security screens so that less people were wandering around the hideout – but planning could only get him so far. And having more people on security could backfire since they might be able to get the cameras working again faster.

Or not. He could just imagine all the people who were currently watching the screens fumbling around and getting in each other's way as they tried to restore a system they didn't really know all that much about. Sure, they knew how to set the cameras up and how to use the software, but Matt would be working at the level of the code in the software, something they didn't know anything about.

But no matter what he could have done to prepare, certain things he would have to go on luck alone. His motorcycle was currently parked near the back entrance, but if someone happened to see him, he would really have no excuse for why he was out there. All he could do was hope that those who were out wouldn't decide to come back early for whatever reason.

He looked at the clock again. He had told those on security to notify him if anything happened while they were in the process of getting ready for the move, which meant any minute someone should be at his door and…

"Boss, there's something wrong with da cameras," he heard from the other side of his door, "All I'm gettin' is blank screens." Mello jumped up from the bed and threw the door open. He had to work to conceal the smile that had spread across his face at those words; he couldn't let himself ruin everything when he was so close to freedom.

"Well, go fix them!" he said, pushing the man in the direction of the security room. He relaxed the stern look he had adorned when the man had turned the corner; his lips started to twitch back up into the smile he had been forced to hide when he noticed that he wasn't alone. "And you two," he said pointing to the two men in the room who seemed to be doing nothing other than wasting time, "go help him." He watched as they left, and as soon as they were out of sight, he ran back into his room and grabbed his duffle bag. It was time.

He closed and locked his door behind him and took one more look around before heading to the safe in the main room. The first time he had joined the Mafia, he had thought it strange to keep the safe out in the open, but it actually seemed pretty common, at least for the two Mafia groups he had worked under. The better to keep an eye on he supposed.

He entered the combination and opened the door on the front of the metal box, stuffing as much of the money that lay inside into his duffle bag as he could before closing it back up and relocking it. He knew it was an added risk, stealing from the Mafia, but he had already decided that it would be worth it. If Matt was broke, this would solve any monetary problems he had which would hopefully make Matt less tense and more willing to forgive him. Besides, trying to escape was already risky, how much worse could this be?

He started for the back door, glancing back to see more people rushing into the security room, but they didn't seem to notice him in the midst of the dilemma.

His heart was pounding as he laid his hand on the door handle. He hesitated a moment before pushing it open and stepping out into the sunlight. It was exhilarating being outside again; he hadn't felt the sun on his skin since he had returned to the Mafia. He had never been one to spend hours out in the sun for his pale skin burned easily, but he had fallen in love with being outdoors during the time he had lived in Hokkaido with Matt. How could he not when their house had been surrounded by those beautiful fields of lavender?

But he couldn't waste anymore time. He mounted the motorcycle, trying to find a way to hold onto the now heavy and lumpy duffle bag. When he had it positioned in a way that he thought it wouldn't fall, sitting it on his lap and propping it up against the handle bars, he started the motorcycle and sped away from the prison he had endured for the past month.

He was finally free.

He breathed in the fresh air, or semi-fresh air; it was nothing compared to the pure air he had been used to in Biei, but at that moment, he loved it nonetheless, how it blew through his hair and over his skin. He had never been so happy to be outside as he was then, driving to the rendezvous point to meet Matt.

He knew things between them would be difficult, but the apparent success of his escape made him optimistic. None of the devastation he had felt when Matt had said that he didn't want to get back together or the melancholy he had been left with after Matt had gone was present.

And as he approached the rendezvous point and saw Matt in the distance, he couldn't help but smile. Even if Matt was reluctant to start their life together over again, Mello knew that he would come around eventually.

When Mello pulled up in front of Matt, the redhead got up, laptop in hand, and asked, "So how do you want to do this?" His voice was cold and impersonal, but Mello didn't care; he was with Matt again, and that was all that mattered. It didn't even matter if Matt hated him at that moment. There wasn't anything he could say that would make Mello believe it.

"Give me your laptop and climb on." Matt did so, though reluctantly. "Do you think you can hold on and make sure that nothing falls off?"

"I can try," Matt said, wrapping his arms around Mello. He held one hand on his laptop, pressing it to Mello's torso, and the other on the duffle bag. "But if I start to feel like I'm going to fall off or I'm going to lose something, your bag is going to be the first thing to go; my laptop is way more valuable."

"I doubt it," Mello said, "Just make sure you don't drop anything, okay?"

"Whatever," Matt grumbled. Mello pulled away from the building and started towards the road.

Though the tension between them was almost tangible, Mello couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction. Matt was, after all, pressed against his back with his arms wrapped around him; it didn't matter if it was only so that he didn't fall off.

"Which way to your apartment? You're going to have to give me directions," he said lightly.

"I know," Matt snapped back, "Get to an actual road, and I'll give you directions."

Matt's less than cooperative attitude had Mello a bit discouraged. When he had first embraced Matt the day before, he had felt like things would be perfect again. That hadn't lasted very long, and he wasn't so naïve to have retained any such notions after how Matt had acted. He had talked about how Mello had broken his heart, but as Matt had went on about how Mello had hurt him and how things were over between them, it had broken Mello's heart. He knew that there was no way things would be perfect again, at least not for a long time, but it couldn't be over no matter what Matt had said. Not yet.

But had things ever really been perfect? Sure, there were times that seemed liked things couldn't get any better, but as a whole, he didn't think he could classify his and Matt's relationship as perfect. He didn't even think he believed in perfect anymore.

Even so, it couldn't be over because Mello still loved Matt, and he knew that Matt still loved him, even if he wouldn't admit it. He wanted to make things work no matter how much of an uphill battle it would be. Because it would be worth it.

After ten minutes of Matt's instructions given in a less than friendly tone, he told him to turn right and into the small parking lot positioned behind the apartment building. As soon as the motorcycle was no longer in motion, Matt hopped off, taking his laptop with him, and started for the entrance without a word. Mello followed.

Four flights of stairs later, they reached the apartment, and Matt opened the door. Mello was shocked to see the barren interior. "You've been living _here_?"

"Home sweet home," Matt said sarcastically, locking the door behind him. He disappeared into what Mello assumed to be his room and reappeared a second later without his laptop. "There's only one bedroom, so I guess you can put your stuff down in here."

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" he asked looking around what he had to assume was a living room.

"Floor? Look, I'm sorry it's not the Taj Mahal, but you're the one who said you wanted to live here."

"That was when I thought I would at least have a bed," Mello said, looking over the grimy floor.

"When you get a job and have enough money for a bed, you can have one."

"Matt…about that… I don't think I'm going to have to get a job," Mello said with a smile.

"Uh, yeah you are. That was the deal, remember? You have to pay for half the rent if you want to live here."

Mello sat the duffle bag on the floor and bent down, unzipping it. "Matt, you might want to take a look at this."

"What, your dirty-" Matt said, walking over to him. "…clothes," he finished barely above a whisper, seeing what the duffle bag concealed. "Mello, don't tell me you stole this from the Mafia," he said, bending down and picking up one of the bundles of money. Mello nodded, and Matt hit him in the head with it. "You are such an idiot. Don't you think they're going to miss this? I mean, it's not like you stole twenty bucks; this has got to be over a million."

"We'll be fine. There's still a lot more in the safe I took it out of. I doubt they'll even notice any is gone."

"Okay, so let's suppose they don't. We still can't just spend this. It's all hundreds; don't you think it would be a bit suspicious to buy everything using hundreds? And we can't exactly take this to the bank and ask for change."

"Matt, calm down. It's fine. Look, fifties," he said digging through the bag and producing the less valuable notes.

"No, Mello, it's not fine. Look at this," he said, pushing the duffle bag closer to Mello, "_This_ is not fine. What are we going to do with it? Even if the Mafia doesn't come looking for it, if someone finds out about this, we'll be arrested!" He looked down at the money in his hands and dropped it to the floor, running a hand through his hair. Mello could tell that he was panicking, and he thought it was adorable.

"Matt."

"What?" he said, looking to Mello with wide eyes filled with worry.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?"

Matt looked at him, giving him a look that questioned his sanity. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all," Mello said, "I'll pay."

"No you won't," Matt said, his voice stern, "We _can't_ use this."

"Okay," Mello shrugged, "We can starve if you want." He picked up the money that Matt had dropped on the floor and put it back in the bag. "I don't suppose you have anything here then?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Right, and I'm hungry, so if I can't use _my_ money, you're going to have to pay for both of us. I'm not sure, but I was under the impression that you barely had enough to keep yourself alive."

"This isn't a joke!" he chastised, "And it's not _your_ money."

"Come off it, Matt. Since when are you so concerned with the law?" Mello said, becoming annoyed with how righteous Matt was acting. And after all those times he had hacked into government databases; that wasn't exactly legal either.

"I'm not," Matt said, sounding offended, "I just don't want to get thrown in jail or killed by the Mafia. Is that so much to ask?"

"No, it's not, but you don't have to worry. Is it so much to ask for you to trust me?"

"Yeah, actually. It is. Do you really expect me to trust you after…after everything? And even if it wasn't, I wouldn't go out to eat with you. I told you I don't want to get back together, so I'm not going to go on a date with you. It's just not happening."

"Fine, but I'm still going to get something to eat," he said, grabbing a couple of the fifty dollar bills out of the bag and stuffing them into his pocket. "Where should I put this?" he asked, zipping up the duffle bag.

"Wherever you want. It's not like I have some great hiding spot for things," he said with a shrug, "I put my laptop under my mattress."

"So you get a bed, but I have to sleep on the floor?"

"It's not an actual bed, just the mattress. That's all I could afford. Besides, _you_ can buy anything you want since my opinion apparently doesn't matter."

"I never said your opinion doesn't matter. Just like I didn't say that I never wanted to see you again. You need to stop putting words in my mouth and listen to what I'm actually saying," he said, starting to raise his voice. "You haven't changed at all."

"Then why do you want me back?" Matt asked, his voice harsh.

Mello looked at him, ashamed of himself for what he had said. They had been living together for less than half an hour, and they had already started fighting again.

"Hmm, Mello? Isn't _this_ why you left? Why do you want me back then?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"You know, I keep hearing 'I'm sorry,' but I don't believe a word of it _especially_ when you act like this. You say _I_ haven't changed, but neither have you."

"You're right, but you have to believe I'm trying."

"No, I don't. How can I?"

"Just forget it," he said, giving up. If this continued, it would just leave things worse off than they already were. "I'm hungry, so I'm going to go get something to eat. You can either come with me or not; I don't really care either way," Mello said walking to the door and trying to pull it open. He unlocked it and tried again. "So?" he said, turning back to see a rather conflicted looking Matt standing in the middle of the room.

"I'm coming," he said with a sigh, "but only because you'll probably end up doing something stupid if I don't." Mello couldn't help but smile at this. He didn't care why Matt was going just as long as he was.

"So, what do you want to get then?" he asked on the way down the stairs.

"I don't care."

"Well, do you want to just get take-out and bring it back to the apartment? Or," he said, getting an idea that he hoped would make Matt miss the life they had had together, "do you want to stop by the supermarket, and we can just make something. I'm assuming you don't have anything to eat because you didn't have any money. I-"

"Stop saying that."

"What?" Mello said, honestly surprised. He didn't think he had said anything that would anger Matt.

"That I don't have any money. I don't need you help."

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you or anything." Having reached the main floor, Mello started for the doors that led out into the parking lot.

"What are you doing?" Matt asked, ignoring Mello's apology.

"Going to get my motorcycle?"

"We can walk. How are we going to carry anything on your motorcycle? Besides, the Mafia will probably be looking for you even if they don't notice you took that money, and your motorcycle will draw more attention to us."

"Right," Mello said, turning around and going to the front doors, holding one open for Matt who ignored the gesture and left out the other door. "So, do you miss cooking then?" Mello asked as they walked down the sidewalk, trying to guide the conversation back to something more personal.

Matt sighed. "Mello, don't try to make small talk."

"I'm not. I was just wondering."

"Yeah, I do," he replied flatly.

"Matt, please stop being like this," he said, his hand brushing Matt's. It was an accident, and he probably wouldn't have thought anything of it if Matt hadn't jerked his hand away.

"Then stop trying to act like we're a couple. I've told you, I don't _want_ to get back together. Just give up."

"I know you don't want to, but you probably didn't think that I wanted to, and you still came all this way for me. You couldn't give up, and neither can I."

"How can you say that? You already gave up. You made your choice. It's too late."

"No it's not. We can still-"

"No we can't. Let's just…not talk, okay?"

"Sure." He knew that everything he had done had hurt Matt, and he knew that it would take a lot to get Matt to forgive him, but he still thought that Matt was being awfully stubborn. But even so, he would take being with Matt and fighting all the time over not being with him at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm currently writing this from my brand new laptop. I'm sure no one else cares, but I'm excited. XD

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Frerard, ADORABLOODTHIRSTY, SyC0bEaR, TrickledFingers, Midnightkisses10, CarefulSteps


	10. Chapter 9: Red

Believe Me, I'm Lying by Forever the Sickest Kids

**Chapter 9: Red**

Matt opened the door slowly and stuck his head out. He didn't see Mello, but that didn't mean that he wasn't in the apartment somewhere. Actually it was more likely that he was; he didn't have anywhere else to go.

He pushed the door open a little more and stepped out. The floorboard creaked, making him cringe. _What am I doing? This is my apartment; I shouldn't have to sneak around._

But the truth was, he didn't want to see Mello. He knew that he would have to, they lived in the same apartment after all, but he still wanted to postpone it if he could.

If Mello would just accept that they weren't going to be getting back together, the situation would have been much more tolerable, but that wasn't the case. Mello was making it painfully obvious that he had no intention of giving up, and after less than 24 hours of moving in together, it was driving Matt mad.

Last night had been awful. He was certain that Mello had brought up making dinner together as a way to convince him that he missed such things, but he didn't need Mello to help remind him of that. He _did_ miss such things. A lot, actually, but that didn't change anything. He had decided that he wasn't going to give Mello any more chances, and that was it. It didn't matter if he missed certain things or not. It would be less painful for him in the long run to just make a clean break.

But Mello wasn't making it so easy on him. Dinner hadn't been terrible because he had been with Mello or because it had reminded him of the life they had shared together, it was because it made him regret his decision to end things permanently. The entire time they were in the kitchen cooking, he couldn't stop thinking about it. It made it awfully hard to believe that he had made the right choice.

Even though they didn't have nearly the resources they had had at their house in Biei, it had still felt like home while they were in the kitchen. It didn't matter that all they had were paper plates and plastic forks and knives or that they had had to find a way to cook everything in the one frying pan Matt had bought back when he had first moved in with the naïve hope that he would actually be able to cook there. It didn't matter that their surroundings were different; it still felt like home while they were in the kitchen.

But even that had only made Matt nostalgic, had only made him reconsider his decision, not actually regret it.

They hadn't spoken to each other on their way to the supermarket, not after Matt had suggested that they shouldn't talk. He hadn't wanted to. It seemed like everything Mello said or did was aimed at convincing Matt to forgive him, and he just didn't want to hear any more of it.

It had been tense, the time they had spent shopping, especially at the beginning. Mello had been the one to break the silence of course, asking what Matt wanted to make for dinner. Knowing his limited kitchen, Matt had suggested chicken. It would be easy to cook in the frying pan with a little olive oil and spices.

Strangely enough, what had broken the tension was Mello telling him that he was getting the wrong oil. When Matt had seen that the vegetable oil was less expensive than the olive oil, he had begrudgingly put that in the basket. He hated using vegetable oil; he felt that it was bland and really didn't do anything besides make food overly greasy, but after a month of struggling to make ends meet, he had automatically went with the cheaper option.

What surprised him though was when Mello asked him why he was getting vegetable oil, adding "It's terrible" almost as an afterthought. He hadn't been able to help but laugh at that. He didn't think Mello had ever cooked with vegetable oil or even really knew the difference. He couldn't believe how much his cooking habits had rubbed off on Mello, though he really shouldn't have expected anything less. He was the only one Mello had ever gotten cooking instruction from.

After that, it was almost as if things were back to 'normal,' or at least, as normal as they could be. They hadn't even fought which had become standard in the months before Mello had left. All throughout making dinner, they hadn't had one disagreement. This was what had made Matt regret his decision. If they could make it through dinner, through trying to clean the chicken breast with plastic knives because Matt had forgotten that he didn't have any actual knives, through dropping half of their dinner on the floor when they had ran into each other, why couldn't they work things out?

Though Matt's regrets didn't change a thing. He wasn't going to change his mind. Because this wasn't real. What was real were the months they had spent fighting and barely being able to sit in the same room together. That's what was real, not this act that Mello was putting on.

Which was why Matt didn't want to see Mello that morning. He couldn't risk changing his mind, and he feared that he would if he spent much more time with Mello. But still, he couldn't just avoid him when they lived in the same apartment. That wouldn't be possible.

He sighed and continued out into the living room where he found Mello sitting on his 'bed,' the clothes he had laid out to sleep on rather than sleeping directly on the floor, with a large paper bag with the word 'Panera' on the front sitting by him and a bagel in hand. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt rather than the leather outfit he had kept on the day before after he had escaped.

"I got breakfast," Mello said when he caught sight of Matt standing at the threshold between the hall and the living room.

"Yeah. I, uh, see that. Where did you get Panera?" he asked partially because he didn't think there was one anywhere near his apartment and partially because he was reluctant to move from his spot between the two rooms and was trying to stall. Mello would want them to eat breakfast together, which was exactly the kind of thing he was hoping to avoid. He wished he had work that day; that would be the easiest way to avoid Mello for most of the day.

"Well, I went out to pick up something for breakfast, and I didn't see anything that looked good, so I just kept driving until I found something that did," Mello shrugged.

"You took your motorcycle? I thought we agreed that was too conspicuous." He felt his heart quicken. What if the Mafia had discovered that Mello had stolen money from them and were looking for him? If they saw him, that would lead them back to the apartment. They could easily break in. What if they killed Mello for what he had done?

"It's fine. Just come and eat." Matt looked at Mello, who didn't seem all that concerned with it. He was honestly surprised that what he was worried about was Mello's safety. He was supposed to be mad at Mello, but he found that he still cared.

"Okay…" He hesitantly walked to the makeshift bed and sat down on it as far away from Mello as he could.

Mello looked surprised that he had dropped the motorcycle issue so easily, but didn't say anything about it. He only passed the bag to Matt. "I got two blueberry bagels for you," he said.

"Thanks." Matt took out one of them and spread a bit of cream cheese on it. He couldn't believe that Mello had remembered that blueberry bagels were his favorite; he didn't even know when the last time they had had bagels was.

"So, I was thinking," Mello said, taking his second chocolate chip bagel out of the bag, "we should get some stuff for the apartment. I don't know how you've been able to stand living in it like this. It doesn't have to be anything special, and we can buy the cheapest stuff we can find." He looked to Matt for a response.

"I guess it couldn't hurt." He was slowly becoming more used to the idea of using the stolen money. Things were only illegal if you got caught, and this really wasn't any worse than anything else they had done. Besides, it wasn't as if they could do anything about it; Mello had already stolen it, and they couldn't change the past. But that wasn't what made him reluctant. He knew why Mello had brought it up. 'I don't know how you've been able to stand living in it like this' meant 'I can't stand sleeping on the floor for another night.' "What did you have in mind?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Well, I'd like a bed or at least something better to sleep on than a pile of clothes on the floor, and you'd probably like some sheets or a blanket or something. Maybe a table and chairs for the kitchen, some pots and pans, some real knives," he added at the end with a smile. Matt couldn't help but smile back. He had never before tried to clean chicken with a plastic knife, and it was not an experience he wished to revisit. "We can even get everything at a thrift store, keep it really low key."

"That sounds like it would be fine," he said, but mentally kicked himself. Shopping all day with Mello for stuff for the apartment sounded like the type of thing he was trying not to do. And though he knew he shouldn't, he really did want to. A part of him wanted to try to make things work.

"Really?"

"You sound so surprised," he said, taking his second bagel out of the bag.

"I am. I…didn't think you would agree to it… You don't work today?"

"Nope." It would have been easy to lie and say that he had to go to work, but he wasn't so sure that he wanted to. He didn't have to make any decisions right away. He would just go today and see how he felt.

"Uh, okay. Well, do you want to leave now then?" Matt held up the remaining half of his bagel. "I mean after you're done. No rush."

"Sure."

"Are you done with this?" Mello asked, picking up the bag and remaining cream cheese.

"Yeah, you can take it." He watched as Mello walked away. It was so much harder to hate him when he wasn't wearing those awful leather pants and vest. That wasn't his Mello.

He froze, last bite of bagel inches away from his mouth. Was this _his_ Mello then? They say the clothes make the man, but he couldn't logically think that just because Mello had gone back to the clothes Matt was used to meant that things were suddenly okay.

He finished his bagel as Mello reentered the room. "Going to go get changed," he mumbled and quickly left. He felt like he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, and he didn't know why things had suddenly changed. Because Mello wasn't wearing leather? Because they weren't fighting? That didn't seem right to him. No, he didn't know what he wanted because he could imagine the life they had together, the life they could have together again. But only if he would let his guard down.

He couldn't. He knew he would just end up getting hurt again if he did. It was better to distance himself, wasn't it? It didn't matter. He had already agreed to go shopping, so that's what he would be doing. He couldn't very well back out now.

He got changed and headed to the bathroom where he found Mello brushing his teeth. Mello tried to scoot over, but with the bathroom being as tiny as it was, they were in very close quarters. Matt didn't think he had ever felt more awkward brushing his teeth. It was just odd. Especially since Mello had almost finished when Matt had came in, and rather than trying to squeeze around Matt to get out of the bathroom, he simply stood there, waiting. Matt really didn't know which way would have been worse.

Matt was actually relieved to leave the apartment. Whatever would happen while they were out couldn't possibly be more awkward than Mello watching him brush his teeth. Though the silent walk to the thrift store did come close, and it didn't help that it took twice as long to get there as it did to get to the supermarket.

"So," Matt started, breaking the silence as they stood at the front of the store, "what if we got you a couch instead of a bed?" He looked to Mello who didn't appear to like the idea.

"I'd like to have something to sleep on that didn't, you know, hurt my spine."

"I mean one of those sleeper sofa things. It would be less weird than having a bed in the middle of the living room…"

"Let's see if they even have one." Matt nodded, wishing he would have specified what he had meant originally.

They headed to the back of the store where the furniture was set out. "Looks like we have a wonderful selection," Mello said sarcastically, "Would you like this lovely brown floral couch or this bright pink one?"

"Come on, there's more to choose from than those two. But that brown _would_ have matched that awful brown color the walls were in the living room. Remember that? And then _you_ wanted to cover it with red," he said shaking his head. "Like _that_ would have made it better," he said with a laugh.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that… What's wrong with red?"

"Nothing when it's the color of a shirt or…or a lamp or something, not when it's the _entire _living room."

"Why? And if I remember correctly, you wanted beige. Because _that's_ better than brown."

"It is," he said defensively, thinking back to when they had painted their living room. He didn't know why he remembered it so vividly. Maybe because that was when he realized he had feelings for Mello. He could remember looking over at Mello who was up on the ladder thinking how good his butt looked in those leather pants. Though he had come to hate Mello wearing those clothes, they were good for something. They left little to the imagination…

"It's nothing to get so worked up over," Mello said with a laugh, snapping Matt's thoughts back to the present.

He looked at Mello, confused. He didn't think he was getting worked up over anything. "What do you mean?"

"Your face is getting red. Almost the color I wanted to paint the living room," he added jokingly.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry," he said turning away. He hadn't realized that he was blushing, and Mello noticing didn't help. _Calm down, he probably just thought I was mad not…not…I don't even know. I just need to forget about it. It doesn't matter anymore anyway._

"Uh, well then we won't get the brown one…" Mello trailed off. _It sounds like he knows something is wrong… I just need to change the subject._

"What about that one?" Matt suggested, trying to sound natural, "It's grey; do you think you can handle such a boring color?" His voice sounded strained to his own ears, like he was trying too hard.

"I suppose. Well, only if it has a pullout bed." He went to check and shook his head. "Nope. Why don't we check them all before deciding on one."

"Yeah, we should do that…" Things were tense again; he wished he would have never brought up that day. Or that he could have just not started blushing like an idiot. That would have worked too.

"Matt, come here!" he heard Mello say. He turned around to see Mello standing on the other side of a table and chairs set. He had to go around them to see what Mello wanted him to see. "I want this one." Matt started laughing at this, and Mello turned to give him a strange look. "What exactly is so funny?"

"Of course you do." He looked down at the sofa sitting in front of them; it was bright red.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. We can get it if you want. You'll be the one sleeping on it. Did you even check if it pulls out?"

"Yeah," Mello said, pulling up one of the cushions to prove that it did. Matt thought it funny how excited he sounded.

"Hold these," Mello said, handing him two of the cushions before taking the last of the three off and stacking it on top of the other two in Matt's hands.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying it out." Mello pulled the bed out and laid down, placing his hands behind his head.

"Well?" Matt questioned, looking around the stack of cushions he held.

"You're really going to let me get a red couch for your apartment?" Mello asked, looking up at him, a smile spreading across his face.

"If that's what you want," he shrugged.

"Then I want to get it." He got back up and put the couch back together. "What about a table, then?"

"Anything will work," he said, looking to the one nearest them, "This one's nice."

"_That's_ the one you want?"

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asked, turning to Mello and then back to the table.

"No, it just looks like the table we broke. Hopefully this one is more sturdy."

Matt could feel himself start to blush again. Now that Mello had mentioned it, it did look quite a bit like the one they had broken. "Uh, never mind. I think I like that one better," he said walking over to the first one he saw. He was supposed to be convincing himself that he didn't want to get back together with Mello, and he didn't think that table would help.

"You sure?" Mello said. It sounded like he was teasing Matt.

"Yeah, this one's smaller. It will fit in the kitchen better."

"If that's what you want."

"It is. Trust me."

• • •

The rest of their shopping went pretty smoothly. Matt picked out a bed frame and some sheets for the mattress he already had, and they picked out some cookware as well as a few various other items. It wasn't until they were heading to the checkout with two boxes full of everything they wanted to buy, besides the furniture of course, that Mello brought up something that would be potentially problematic.

"Matt, how are we going to get this stuff back to the apartment?"

Matt's heart dropped. He hadn't thought of that. "We're going to have to carry it. I doubt they deliver anything."

"We're going to carry this," he said, referring to the boxes they had, "a couch, a bed frame, a table, and two chairs?"

"Aren't you glad we went with the smaller table? The other one came with four chairs."

"We could probably take the boxes and chairs together, but even so, we'll have to make three trips."

"Then that's what we'll have to do."

"I thought we were supposed to be staying low key. Don't you think it will be a bit conspicuous carrying a couch down the sidewalk?"

"Unless you secretly have a moving van, then we don't really have any other options."

"Alright, I guess. Let's do this," Mello said, stepping forward to the checkout.

Matt stayed where he was, looking at Mello as he explained to the cashier that they would be buying some furniture and that they would need to make multiple trips and if the store could hold what they had selected for a couple hours until they could get everything. He didn't understand what he was feeling as he stood there, watching Mello. He missed this, just being with Mello. But what had happened to the fighting? Nothing had really changed, they hadn't solved anything, and they hadn't really even talked about it. Mello wanted to get back together with him, but how could he expect things to be better when they hadn't fixed anything?

He still didn't fully trust Mello again, and he still didn't feel like he could allow himself to forgive him, yet he was starting to feel something for him again.

He didn't want to; it would make it more difficult to stay mad at him. His anger was the last thing separating him from realizing that he still loved Mello, that he had never stopped loving Mello, which was exactly why he clutched onto it. If he admitted to himself that he loved Mello, he would be in danger of getting his heart broken. It almost seemed inevitable that it would happen again if he did; Mello didn't exactly have the best track record.

So he couldn't admit how he felt, even to himself. He had to protect himself.

"Matt, what are you doing? Come on." Realizing that he still hadn't moved, Matt stepped forward and placed the box on the counter.

He didn't know exactly how he felt about things or what he wanted to do, but Matt knew that he couldn't allow himself to love Mello again, even if that meant lying to himself and to Mello.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Mattie is making progress, yay! And next chapter we get to see what started all the fighting. Some major stuff is about to go down guys!

So please review? :3

**A special thanks to the following reviewers: **(Really, guys? Only two of you this time?)  
>SyC0bEaR, TrickledFingers<p> 


	11. Chapter 10: Broken

Who I Am Hates Who I've Been by Relient K

**Chapter 10: Broken**

"Matt, this isn't working," Mello said, trying to turn the table a little in the hope that it would make things easier. That was the last thing they had to take up to the apartment, and it just wasn't being cooperative. The bed frame hadn't even given them this much of a hard time, and it was bigger than the table. Mello was starting to be very glad that they had gone with the smaller table. Not that he would tell Matt that.

"Turn it on a diagonal," Matt said from a few steps below.

"I am," Mello insisted. He tried to turn it a little more which did make it fit through the stairwell a little better, but he couldn't get a good grip on it like that.

"That's better. Keep it like that." Mello tried to hold onto it, but the awkward position made it difficult. When he was a couple steps from the top of that flight of stairs, the table slipped from one of his hands leaving most of the weight on Matt. "Mello! What the fuck!"

"Sorry!" he said, grabbing onto the table again and pulling it up to the second floor landing.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Matt said, stepping onto the landing. He pulled his shirt up and rubbed his thumb over a large red mark that ran across his ribs.

"What happened?" Mello asked, taking in the expanse of skin. It was a welcome sight. He hadn't seen it in so long…

"I had to let go of the table and grab onto the railing to stop from falling. And when I did, it hit me in the chest." He touched the mark again, wincing, and let his shirt fall back down over his abdomen.

"I'm sorry," Mello said again, "it just slipped out of my hand."

"Yeah, well you can be on bottom the rest of the way up," he said, moving to trade positions with Mello.

"I would have let you top more if you wanted," Mello said trying not to smile.

"You know that's not what I meant," Matt said, rolling his eyes though he was quite visibly blushing.

"If you say so." He went around to the other side of the table, and they started up the next flight of stairs. "So then you didn't mind bottom?" he asked lightly.

"No, well, I mean," he started to answer and then cut himself off. "Mello, we're not going to talk about this!"

"All I did was ask a question," Mello returned innocently.

"Just keep your questions to yourself," Matt said, by this time his face was a bright red. _He's so cute when he's embarrassed. Then again, he's cute all the time._

Mello didn't know what had changed between that morning and then, but it seemed Matt was a lot more on edge. He had noticed it on their first trip back to the apartment. Any progress they had made seemed to have disappeared, and Mello didn't know why. After they had gone through the checkout, Matt had become very standoffish. He had considered asking Matt what was wrong but decided against it. He figured that would only make things worse.

It was a huge disappointment. He had known that Matt would be mad at him, but he had thought that he would be forgiven quickly. Now it looked like it would be more work than he had originally thought. Not that it really mattered. He would do anything to convince Matt to take him back. _Anything_. He just wished he knew why Matt had suddenly changed his attitude.

By the time they had gotten the table out in front of the door to the apartment, Matt seemed even more pissed off. He hadn't said anything, but Mello could tell just by his mannerisms.

They sat the table down, and Matt took the key out. He unlocked the door and threw it open with a bit more force than was necessary. The table was brought inside and sat next to the collection of stuff they had bought in the middle of the living room.

"Now what?" Mello asked as Matt closed and locked the door. He knew it was a safe bet that they would put the furniture where it belonged and probably wash the pots, pans, and silverware before putting it away, but he was hesitant to make any suggestions while Matt was upset. He didn't want to end up taking anymore steps backwards.

"Let's set the kitchen up," he said, moving back to the table. Once it was positioned in the kitchen, Matt went back to the living room and tried to drag both chairs in at once.

"Let me help," Mello offered, trying to take one of the chairs from him.

"I got it," Matt snapped. Mello backed off and took this to mean he was supposed to bring the rest of the kitchen stuff in. He threw the sheets and towels at the top of the one box onto the couch and stacked the two boxes on top of each other, carrying them both into the kitchen.

He started filling the left side of the sink with water, getting ready to do the dishes. He did so without a word, deciding it was best to let Matt come to him rather than trying to talk to him then.

"It's my apartment. I'll do it," Matt said, grabbing the dish soap from under the sink and pouring some in once the chairs were in place. He turned the water off and dumped the silverware in to start, but when he plunged his hand through the soap suds, he retracted it quickly, dropping a large knife on the counter. "Fuck!" he swore, rushing to turn the faucet back on and running water over the gash on his palm. The clear water turned red and flowed down the drain on the other side of the sink.

"Are you okay?" Mello asked, returning to Matt's side. He placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. "Do you want me to get you anything? It looks pretty bad."

"It's fine."

"Are you sure? I can run to the store and-"

"It's fine!" Matt yelled, looking at Mello with a pained expression. "I don't need you," he said, quietly this time.

Mello nodded and dropped his hand from Matt's shoulder. He watched as Matt turned off the water and grabbed the roll of paper towels off the counter, wrapping a couple around his hand. "Matt, I-" he started.

"What happened to us?" Matt said barely above a whisper.

"I…I don't know."

"We were so happy, things were great, and then…I don't know… We broke." Matt looked up from his hand, a sad expression replacing any hostility his features had held earlier.

Mello stepped back towards Matt, hesitantly at first. "We didn't break…" he said, running a hand up and down Matt's arm. He waited for Matt to pull away, but he didn't; he simply stood there, looking up at Mello through his bangs with that same sad expression.

"Yes we did. How else could have things turned out like this? I never wanted to fight with you…"

"I'm sorry," Mello said for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two days, but it never felt more true than it did then. Matt's expression changed slightly, and he knew that Matt didn't believe him, probably wouldn't for awhile. "I never meant for things to get so bad…"

"I just don't understand…how things could have changed so much…"

"Things changed because I put other stuff above our relationship." Mello had never admitted that, even to himself. It felt odd saying the words, and by the surprised look that came to Matt's face, it was clear that he hadn't expected Mello to say anything like that.

"You…did." It almost sounded like an accusation. "And I still don't understand why. You hardly knew him. Why was he more important than me?"

"No Matt, he was never more important than you. I had to help him. He didn't have anyone else… And I know you never liked him, but… Takahashi-san was the closest thing to a father I ever had." He had never told Matt or even Takahashi-san himself that. He regretted never telling Takahashi-san…

"He was? What do you mean?" Matt asked confused.

"I don't know… I never knew my parents, and the closest thing I had to family was Sister Katharina until I met you. And then I just…I just felt like I owed him so much after talking to him those couple days in the hospital… I felt like without him we would have fallen apart… Well, we did anyway, but you know…"

"We fell apart because of him?" There it was, that accusatory tone again.

"No, it wasn't _because_ of him," Mello said defensively. How dare Matt say that. "_We_ did this to ourselves, not him. He has nothing to do with this."

"Really?" More accusations.

"Yes, really," he said, feeling himself start to get angry at Matt. "You know, I seem to remember a lot of _this_," he said, gesturing between the two of them. "Why are you so jealous? It's not like I was cheating on you." Saying that gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but think back to that girl, Holly, he thought her name was. _I didn't cheat on him…not really. We didn't do anything…_

"Oh, well that's good to know," he said sarcastically, "because if you ever did, I would never forgive you. And I wasn't jealous. I just wish you would have put me above him."

"Look, I'm sorry, but when he got sick, he needed me," Mello said, starting to raise his voice.

"Yeah, because you sound _real_ sorry right now."

"I am sorry, Matt! Do you think I _wanted_ him to get sick? Do you think I _wanted_ to have to take care of him? To not be able to help him? To watch him die…? That isn't what I wanted either. The least you could have done was be understanding."

"I tried to be. I understood when you would go fix something for him around his house. I understood when you would go shovel his sidewalk. I even understood when he got sick and you would be gone for half the day taking care of him. But it was a little hard to understand when you spent our anniversary with _him_ instead of _me_. And my birthday, actually, since they were on the same day. You only had to remember one day for two things, and yet you managed to fuck it up anyway! We had plans for a _month_, and it was like you didn't even care! That's what I just couldn't understand no matter how much I thought about it. You put _him_ above _us_, Mello, and no matter what you say, that's still the truth."

Mello remembered that day all too well. He had left before Matt had even woken up in the hope of being able to come back early. He hadn't forgotten, not really. At least not to start. He had left Matt's birthday present and a note that said 'Happy birthday, Mattie. I'll be back in a couple hours. Happy anniversary. I love you' on the nightstand before leaving.

But then when he had got to Takahashi-san's house, he was doing much worse. Mello had been so distracted that he had forgotten all about the plans he and Matt had. When he had finally got home that night, he had found Matt already asleep. His gift, a black and white striped knit cap because Matt was always complaining that he was cold, had sat open on the nightstand and 'I don't want it' scribbled on the back of the note he had left.

"Matt…"

"And don't think that because you left me a gift that it's okay."

"I don't think that… I felt terrible for forgetting… I still do…"

"_You_ felt terrible? How do you think I felt? For some reason, I thought that 'I'll be back in a couple hours' meant that you were actually coming home again that day and that you wouldn't forget. Stupid me."

"Matt, I-"

"No. Save it, Mello. There's nothing you can say that will change what happened in the past."

"Matt… I had to…"

"No, you didn't," Matt choked out, a hurt expression adorning his features. Mello hated seeing him like that. "Or, let's say you really did have to," he continued, "you could have let me know that you wouldn't be coming home."

"I…" Mello started, searching for the words that would somehow make everything alright, but there were none.

"Didn't," Matt finished for him. "I know." Mello looked Matt straight in the eyes. He didn't understand why Matt was still acting like this. Yes, he had messed up, but…

"Matt, look," he said, his voice gaining its strength back. He had to make Matt understand. "What if you thought you could save your parents somehow? What would you do?"

"I was ten. I couldn't have done anything," Matt said flatly. Mello knew he was taking a risk by bringing up Matt's parents. They understood each other's pasts, but it wasn't something they talked about very often and saying anything about it while Matt was angry with him might not end well, but he had to. It was the only way Mello could think of to get Matt to understand.

"But what if you could have?"

"There was nothing that could have been done…"

"Just answer the question," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle.

"…Anything. I would have done anything, but it's not the same, Mello. They were my parents. Don't even try to compare it."

"I didn't have parents; they abandoned me when I was only a couple months old, remember? So what exactly am I supposed to compare it to?" He was starting to get irritated with Matt. He wasn't listening.

"You don't understand."

"Maybe I don't. But I do know that Takahashi-san was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and when I thought there was something that I could do to help him, I had to."

Matt looked at him, an odd expression on his face. Most of the time, he could read Matt pretty well, but for once, he couldn't. It worried him, especially when Matt stood there like that for what seemed like an eternity. He didn't dare say anything.

"…I' m sorry," Matt said quietly.

"You…are?" Mello hadn't honestly expected Matt to give him an apology, and though it was nice to hear, he still felt that their situation was his fault. He had been the one to forget their anniversary, not Matt.

"I should have been more understanding… But I didn't know that you felt that way. I wish you would have told me before all this... I didn't even go to the funeral; I wish I could have been there for you."

"By then too much had built up between us that it wouldn't have mattered. You didn't want to go, and even though I wanted you there at the time, I think that it would have actually made things worse if you would have gone."

"I'm sorry things had to turn out the way they did."

"So am I. I hate myself for how I treated you after that. I never want to be that way again. I'd take it all back if I could…" He really did hate himself then, or at least the past him. _Why can't I ever learn from my mistakes… No wonder Matt is so skeptical about getting back together…_

"You would? _All_ of it?" Mello knew what he was referring to, and it surprised him that Matt even had to ask.

"Of course. I wish I would have never left. Again," he added, "I don't like hurting you, Mattie, and I'm going to do my best to never hurt you again." He took Matt's hand, the one not wrapped in paper towel, in his own.

Matt shook his head slowly. "You can't say that. We both know you will again. It's just…what you do; you can't help it. But I can't let that happen again." He pulled his hand away from Mello's. "Which is why I can't do this again. I'm sorry." Matt really did look sad, but Mello felt devastated. After all that, he had though they were moving in the right direction, that this was the start of them trying to patch things back together, but Matt didn't want to.

Mello knew that that was a lie. Matt _did_ want to. He could tell that Matt still had feelings for him and that he wanted to get back together just as much as he did. He was just reluctant, and Mello couldn't blame him.

"I get it," Mello said quietly, his voice strained. "I get it…"

"I _am_ sorry…"

"I know," he said, "So, I, uh, guess I'll finish the dishes if you want to go wash the towels and sheets. I'm assuming you won't cut yourself on a towel." He offered Matt a small smile, hoping that Matt wouldn't take any offense to what he had said.

"Yeah, sure," Matt said, hesitating before disappearing into the living room.

It was better if they didn't say anything more about this today. Mello was pretty certain that Matt still loved him, even if he wouldn't admit it, and that was good enough for him. He knew he would come around, but only if Mello let Matt come to him. He needed to back off at the moment.

He would just have to be patient, and although he normally didn't have a lot of patience, he would wait forever for Matt if he had too. Luckily, he didn't think he would have to wait that long; he was sure that Matt would give in sooner rather than later.

But what if Matt was right…what if they had broken? _We can fix it. Maybe Matt's right, and we did break. Maybe we've been broken for a long time and just didn't know it. But we'll glue our life back together, and everything will be fine._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yay, 50 reviews! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, especially you "loyal" reviewers as one of you called yourself. You know who you are ;)

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Shadow Dancer666, ADORABLOODTHIRSTY, TrickledFingers, ILuvYa44, SyC0bEaR, chocosexual


	12. Chapter 11: Turnaround

Bless Your Heart by Evil Us

**Chapter 11: Turnaround**

Matt turned the sign over to read 'Closed' and locked the door to the book store. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced down at the time. There was no way he could 'accidently' miss the bus, so he started down the sidewalk towards the bus stop.

He _could_ have quit his job as Mello so kindly pointed out to him every time he so much as mentioned work. He _could_ have, but he didn't want to. Sure, it wasn't the most exciting job in the world nor did he really even like it that much, but it was an excuse to leave the apartment.

He couldn't stay there any more than he had to. In the past couple days since they had set up the apartment, he had fought with himself over what he wanted to do. It was constantly on his mind. He could feel himself breaking down, and being around Mello would only speed up the process.

If Matt was to be completely honest with himself, he knew that he still loved Mello and wanted him back just as much as Mello so obviously wanted him back. It was no longer a question in his mind but a fact. He _knew_ he wanted to get back together with Mello, and he _knew_ that he wanted to put all of the arguments and anger behind them. But things weren't that easy.

He had gone to find Mello because he didn't want things to be over, but things had changed since then. Yes, he would have been mad at Mello for leaving once he had found him either way, but not like this. This was different. Mello had hurt Matt more than leaving ever could.

_But…Mello never meant it that way. He hadn't meant to hurt me. I'm sure he thought he was doing the right thing, pretending like he didn't care. He was trying to protect me… But what else was I supposed to think when he acted like that?_ He knew now that it had been a lie, but that didn't change the fact that it had killed Matt to hear that Mello didn't care.

As Matt walked to the bus stop, he supposed it was his fault in a way. It was his own fault that he was so weak, right? That he couldn't live without Mello and had had a breakdown when he thought that he would have to. He'd never been able to exist without Mello, at least not since they had become friends. He was so utterly dependent on him…

The bus came then, and he got on, taking an open seat near the front. He had mixed feelings about going back to the apartment… back to Mello. It wasn't that he didn't want to forgive Mello but that he did want to. _I don't want to be mad at him anymore. Not that I could be even if I wanted._

He had already forgiven Mello, but he still didn't know if he could set himself up to be hurt again. He wanted to believe that Mello wouldn't hurt him again, that he had somehow learned his lesson through all this, but he didn't know if he could. He couldn't take that chance, not when the probability of it being true was so low. It didn't even seem like Mello had the capability of learning from his mistakes.

But at the same time, he knew he couldn't live without Mello; it was a fact that he knew he would have to accept. They couldn't continue living the way they were as…friends? _Is that what we are? He's not my boyfriend anymore, I guess, but then what __**are **__we?_ He would always be Mello's friend no matter how many times he messed up, but it felt like more than that, some sort of limbo between being a couple and friendship.

He knew what would fix it, what would change things back to the way they were supposed to be… he would give in. That's the only way he could see this ending. He wasn't strong enough to keep fighting against his feelings, so he would eventually have to let them win.

He wasn't sure that was such a bad thing though. It was a risk, getting back together with Mello, but what other choice did he have? He couldn't ever imagine going back to 'just friends' or living without Mello permanently, and he hated the 'in between' they had found themselves in. The only other option was to stop fighting against his feelings and get back together.

And if he could silence his worries about being hurt again, he knew that that was exactly what he wanted.

Matt got off the bus at the stop closest to the apartment. He could have gotten off earlier and walked the rest of the way so that he wouldn't get home as quickly, but he wasn't so sure that he wanted to postpone it anymore.

It was an odd feeling, wanting to go home to Mello. He hadn't wanted to in a very long time. Before Mello had left, he had hated going home because it would mean that he would be going home to the tension and the fighting. Sure, he would have gotten home about a half hour before Mello did if he left when he normally did which meant 30 minutes of peace, but if he could leave an hour or two later… or even just say that he had to work late, he could have an escape from the life he didn't want to go back to.

He had to 'work late' a lot of nights, especially near the end. And what made things worse was that he knew that Mello knew that he was lying, but he kept doing it anyway.

He couldn't stop even though he knew it was making things worse between them. Those hours he spent just walking around the small town he worked in or sitting in his car, playing his PSP were his only escape, and he couldn't bring himself to give them up.

Besides, Mello spent so much time away, taking care of Takahashi-san that Matt had rationalized that he should have some time away too if he wanted. Which made him feel so much worse about everything the more he thought about it. _I should have been more understanding. But why didn't he just tell me that he looked at Takahashi-san as a father? If he would have… maybe things would have turned out differently._

But in the past couple days since their argument after getting back from the thrift store, he had wanted to postpone going home, not because spending time with Mello was unpleasant, but because it was making him want to try starting things over. The more time he spent with Mello, the more he wanted it and the harder it was to keep lying to himself.

So for the first time in months, he walked in, not late, but on time.

But when he pushed the door open to his apartment, it no longer seemed like _his_ apartment. It was _clean_. He'd never seen it like that before. He actually stepped back and looked at the apartment number to make sure it was the right one. It was, and since his key had worked, he supposed there was no way that this couldn't be his apartment.

He stepped in and shut the door behind him, looking around. To someone else, it wouldn't have looked all that different than it normally did, but after having to live in it for so long, it was a huge change to Matt. There was no longer a layer of dust and grime covering what Matt was surprised to see was actually a very nice hardwood floor, the walls looked cleaner, brighter, and the musty smell that had hung in the air had been replaced by a fresh, lemon scent. The only thing that seemed the same to him was the red couch they had bought, but even that was pushed against the wall rather than sitting in the middle of the room as it had before.

"Stop," he heard before he could take another step forward. He turned to see Mello peeking around the corner from the kitchen. "Take off your shoes; I don't want you to get the floor dirty after I just cleaned it," Mello said before disappearing again.

He yanked his boots off, dropping them next to the door. He stepped forward, continuing to look around in amazement. He couldn't believe Mello had done all this himself.

He stepped into the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of Mello scrubbing the countertop, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Matt considered that it probably hadn't originally been like that, but after cleaning all day, locks of hair had escaped the rubber band and fell down around his face, framing it. He liked it much better like this.

"You did all this while I was gone?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, I wanted to have the kitchen done by the time you got home, but it looks like that didn't happen," he answered, not bothering to look up from his task.

"Well, the living room looks great, but why did you do all this? Not that I'm complaining!" he added quickly. Matt knew that he probably should have done something like this when he had first moved in, but between trying to make enough money to keep himself alive and his search for Mello, he hadn't had the time. _But it's not even his apartment; why would he do all this? Unless he just got fed up with how gross it was…_

"I wanted to do something for you. I just…I really appreciate you letting me live here…even after everything," he said, looking up at Matt this time, a small smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you…" he said, not knowing what else to say. He really did appreciate it, but those didn't seem like the right words to say then; he needed something better than 'Thank you.'

"Have you seen your room yet?" Mello asked suddenly.

"No…?" He supposed he shouldn't be concerned given how the living room had turned out, but the idea of Mello in his room made him a bit apprehensive. Mello hadn't been in Matt's room since he had moved in almost a week ago. He had spent so many nights during the search wishing that Mello had been there to share his bed with, but now that he actually was there, the idea made Matt a bit nervous.

"Come on," Mello said, taking off the rubber gloves he had been wearing and abandoning the counter. He led Matt back across the living room. "I did the living room first, and then I was going to do the kitchen because I know how much you miss having a nice kitchen, but I decided your room was more important so I did that and the hall. I figured the hall was small, so it wouldn't take that long, but maybe I should have gone straight to the kitchen." Mello opened the door to Matt's room, revealing a much more livable looking version of what it had been.

"Mello…" he said, barely above a whisper. He couldn't believe how nice it looked, almost like it was a different room entirely.

"I hope you don't mind me being in your room or whatever…" Mello said, sounding a little worried.

"I don't mind at all," Matt said, turning to face Mello who looked relieved. He suddenly wanted very much for Mello to be there with him, maybe even sleep with him that night. "I, uh, actually really appreciate it." He stepped forward, hesitantly. A part of him, the part that kept telling him that he shouldn't trust Mello with his heart again, made him stop, only a foot away from the blond, but he told that part of him to shut up and closed the remaining distance between them and embraced the man he had never truly stopped loving.

"I missed you," Mello whispered in his ear. Matt didn't respond but held Mello tighter, burying his face into the crook of Mello's neck.

With that, he knew exactly what he wanted; he wanted Mello no matter what risk he came with. He never wanted to let go of Mello, and standing there, holding him in his arms was worth the risk alone.

They stood there like that for a long time, but Matt would have been content to never move from that spot again, and he was disappointed when Mello pulled away slightly. His arms were still around Matt, but he had moved back far enough to look at the redhead. "I'm sorry, but I have to do something," Mello said quickly, which confused Matt. What could he possibly have to do that was suddenly so urgent? But not even a second later, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Matt's in a chaste kiss.

It was over almost as abruptly as it had started. Another disappointment to Matt, but he recognized it for what it was: a test. Mello was only trying to make sure that Matt was alright with it, and considering how Matt had acted towards Mello's advancements recently, he knew he shouldn't have expected anything more.

Mello pulled back again, looking down at Matt, waiting to gauge his reaction. Matt smiled up at him which seemed to put Mello at ease. "You don't have to be sorry," he said and closed that ridiculous gap that Mello kept trying to make.

He kissed Mello lightly at first in his own test, not because he wasn't sure if Mello would be okay with it, but because he still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. He knew that this was what he wanted, but even so…

He pressed his lips to Mello's again, this time much more forcefully, hungrily. He couldn't stop himself. It had been far too long.

His hand moved up from Mello's back to the back of his head, gripping his hair. His fingers tangled in the hair no longer restrained by the ponytail and pulled more from it as he tried to force Mello closer to him even thought they were already pressed to one another.

Mello's lips parted slowly, and Matt took full advantage. He forced his tongue between Mello's lips when his mouth had only slightly opened, pushing it open further.

Matt trailed his tongue around the interior of Mello's mouth, rediscovering the area. Mello's tongue ran along the side of his but let Matt take control for the most part. This was entirely on Matt's terms, and he knew it. But it seemed kind of odd to him; Mello had always been the one to be more dominant. While it wasn't something completely new to him as he had even topped from time to time, it wasn't something he was used to or entirely comfortable with. Regardless, he found that, at least this time, he liked having more control.

Matt pulled away, panting slightly. He let his hands drop from Mello's hair and back and took both of Mello's hands in his own. He returned to Mello's lips, kissing him once more before adding a kiss to the tip of Mello's nose. "I missed you too," Matt finally said back, reaching up to tuck some of the hair that had fallen out of the ponytail behind Mello's ear.

"Yeah, I got that," Mello said with a small laugh, a sound that produced a large grin on Matt's face. He loved this, just being with Mello.

It was a surreal feeling to Matt. Everything seemed oddly perfect, and he couldn't help but want to just let everything bad in their past go. All the disagreements, the fighting, it didn't seem to matter anymore; all he wanted to do was forget that it ever happened and start fresh with Mello.

"Come on, I'll help you finish the kitchen," Matt offered, pulling Mello towards the door, but Mello didn't follow him.

"No, I want to do this for you. I'll just finish tomorrow while you're at work. I still have to do the bathroom, so we wouldn't finish tonight anyway."

"Are you sure? You don't have to do it by yourself; I can help. I should have done something like this a long time ago."

"You should've never had to move out here at all. I…I should've never left… You know I still love you right? I wasn't just saying that to try to get you to forgive me…" Mello said, an apologetic look on his face.

"I know," Matt responded, offering a reassuring smile. "And…" he started, hesitating again, "You know that I still love you, right?" That was the last of it. He had given Mello his heart again and could only hope that it wouldn't end up getting torn apart. It was a risk he was willing to take though, a risk that honestly didn't seem all that likely to Matt at that moment.

Mello looked so happy to hear those words. "I do now," he said.

"Come on; let's get something to eat," he said, this time successfully leading Mello out the bedroom door. "Do you want to go out or just have the leftovers in the fridge?"

"Do you mind staying in? I'd like to at least finish the counters tonight."

"Of course not," he said. He didn't care where they ate as long as he was with Mello.

So they went to the kitchen, and Mello put the rubber gloves back on while Matt took the rest of what they had eaten the night before out of the refrigerator.

They each did their separate tasks without talking to each other, but they didn't need words. Matt kept sneaking glances at Mello, glad to see him happy again, and from the way Mello quickly looked away when Matt caught him looking at him, he imagined that Mello had been doing the same thing.

Or Matt had thought it was the same thing, but when they sat down to eat, Matt still had a smile on his face, but Mello looked concerned about something. "Is something wrong?" Matt asked, suddenly very worried.

"No, there's nothing _wrong_, I just…I know I've told you, but I want you to know that I'm sorry…"

Matt sighed, glad that it was nothing more serious. "I know. I'm sorry too."

"No, I mean…" Mello stopped and looked at Matt. Whatever it was that he was trying to say, he couldn't seem to find the words. Mello sighed and tried again. "…When I left, I thought I was doing the right thing. I know it wasn't, but there's something else that I learned from all this…" He paused again, and Matt motioned for him to continue. "I can't live without you."

Matt looked at him, shocked by the words. Mello had always been so independent; he'd always prided himself in it. Matt could remember when they had lived at Whammy's, and Mello had always wanted to study and do projects alone; he had wanted to prove that he could beat Near without anyone's help. Even in Hokkaido, Matt had known that Mello loved him and wanted to be with him, but it had never seemed like it was a necessity to his being like it was for Matt.

"Matt, say something." Even though it was a command, Mello's voice conveyed just how nervous he was.

"Uh," Matt started, realizing how long he had been sitting there, gaping at Mello's comment, "really?"

Mello looked at him, eyes narrowed, no longer nervous, but almost seeming angry. "I tell you that I can't live without you, that you are the most important thing in my life, and all you can say is 'Uh, really'?"

"You didn't say that second part," Matt said, trying to conceal a smile.

"I don't care. You–" he started but then stopped abruptly. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because it's cute how defensive you're getting over nothing," Matt said, giving up on hiding his grin. "I was just surprised; that's all."

"Why is that so surprising? I love you."

"I don't know… I just- I always knew that I couldn't live without you, but I didn't think it was the same for you." He understood what the difference was then: he had lost Mello before, and if Mello leaving Whammy's hadn't been enough to convince him that he couldn't live without Mello, thinking that he was dead when the hospital called him that day Mello had left after the fight they had had was. But Mello had never experienced that. He _had_ left Whammy's, but that was before they had gotten together. For Mello, who had always been so independent, Matt could only assume that it was very different to walk away from a lover than it was to walk away from a friend.

"Well, it is," Mello said, still sounding defensive, "Can we just move on now?" Matt watched as Mello stared down at his plate, playing with his food. Maybe he had mistaken sounding embarrassed for sounding defensive.

"I was hoping we could," Matt said, his heart starting to pound. He wanted to ask Mello something, but the very idea of it made him nervous. "Um…" he tried, but as soon as he started, Mello looked up from his food at him, and Matt lost his nerve. He quickly looked away.

"What?" Mello asked.

"Well," Matt started again, looking down intently at the fork in his hand, "I was kind of wondering if you maybe wanted to sleep in my bed tonight instead of on the couch?"

Matt started to worry when Mello didn't respond right away. He tried to peek up through his bangs to see Mello's reaction, glad that he had his goggles on to further shield his eyes.

"Do you mean…?"

"What? No!" Matt snapped his head up with the realization of what Mello was getting at. "I-I mean, just not yet," he added, not wanting to give the impression that he thought having sex with Mello was such a bad thing.

"So…" Mello said, hesitating, "just sleep in the same bed as you? Nothing more, right?"

"Right."

"Okay. I just might take you up on that offer," Mello said with a smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm really, very sorry I haven't been posting; I just haven't had time to write. But now I'm back, and I should be able to continue posting new chapters at regular intervals. 'Should' being the key word in that sentence, but I'll do my best.

Sometime during my almost month-long absence, I happened across an article about fanfiction in the July 18, 2011 issue of _Time_ magazine. It's actually a really interesting article (or at least I thought so). If you want to read it (and I highly recommend that you do) just Google the issue date, and it should come up. It's the one with the fish on the cover.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Midnightkisses10, death2society, TrickledFingers, Shadow Dancer666, SyC0bEaR, ILuvYa44


	13. Chapter 12: Mistakes

Believe Me by Ellie Goulding

**Chapter 12: Mistakes**

Mello turned over to face away from Matt and tried to clear his mind. That only lasted for about ten seconds when he decided that he wouldn't be able to sleep like that either and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. While Matt had fallen asleep fairly easily when they had lain down, Mello hadn't been able to sleep at all.

They were finally sleeping together again; that was what Mello had wanted, but now that he had what he wanted, it wasn't quite as great as he had thought it would be.

It wasn't that he didn't _like_ sleeping with Matt; he actually missed it a great deal. He missed feeling Matt next to him; he missed his scent, which had become the greatest comfort in the world to him; he even missed Matt's rather violent way of sleeping, kicking and flailing as he did, very rarely managing to sleep in any sort of 'normal' position; but that didn't seem to matter.

He loved that Matt had finally agreed to get back together, and while he had told himself that Matt would eventually give in, he had still been surprised when it had actually came true. Nor had he expected Matt to take such control. He had been telling himself the entire time that he needed to let Matt come to him, so when he had kissed Matt, he had worried that Matt would be put off by it. Instead, Matt had been much more forward than Mello would have ever imagined, taking full advantage of the opportunity.

Even so, Mello wondered what Matt had thought when he had to verify what exactly he was insinuating by suggesting that they 'sleep together' again. Matt probably thought that he wanted to have sex, and while he did, Mello didn't think that it would be a good idea to reintroduce sex into their relationship so soon after getting back together. But he still had to ask. After Matt acting as he had, it hadn't seemed all that farfetched to Mello. _What if he __**had**__ wanted to have sex? …I probably would have agreed to it …and messed everything up again._

He had to be careful with what he did and how he acted. Matt wanted to try to make things work again, but how precarious was their relationship? If Mello did something stupid, he could jeopardize it again. Which was why there was no way he could tell Matt.

Mello had been kept awake, for once not by Matt's all too frequent moving while he slept, but by his guilt. When he had first lain down, he had been happy to finally be sleeping with Matt again, had almost fallen asleep, but then he remembered that the last person he had been in bed with was that girl. He couldn't even remember her name, which only seemed to make things worse.

All this time he had been telling himself that since it technically hadn't been cheating, it didn't matter. He and Matt hadn't been together at the time so it didn't count, but lying in bed next to Matt for the first time in what seemed like forever, it suddenly felt very important. It felt like he had betrayed Matt.

It was all that he could think about, causing him to be able to do nothing but toss and turn as he tried to think of something, _anything_, else. But for the past however many hours he had been lying there, no matter how many times he managed to pull his thoughts away from it, they always returned to his guilt.

Mello sighed, exhausted, wondering how late—or early, he supposed—it was, but the only clock in the room was on Matt's laptop, and he didn't trust himself to get up and check it. He had already considered going back to the living room and sleeping on the couch, but what would that say to Matt? Mello almost always woke up before Matt, and if he did, it would be as simple as just not saying anything about sleeping on the couch, but considering that it was probably close to three in the morning, he doubted that he would be up before Matt if he actually did manage to get to sleep.

And then Matt would find him sleeping out in the living room. He didn't know exactly how Matt would take it, but Mello knew that if their positions were reversed, he would find it quite discouraging to find Matt sleeping on the couch rather than next to him.

He couldn't do that, and he couldn't get up to check Matt's computer because it would make it too easy for him to leave if he were out of bed.

Besides, even if he were to wake up before Matt and act as if nothing was wrong, would that be another lie? He'd never considered withholding the truth as lying before, but now he wasn't so sure. It felt like a lie, not telling Matt about how he had sort of cheated on him, and he doubted that pretending he had stayed in bed with him wouldn't feel like a lie as well.

He couldn't lie to Matt anymore; that would only make things worse. Matt had a right to know the truth.

But he couldn't tell Matt what he had done even if it would alleviate his guilt. Matt had told him, point-blank, that he would never forgive Mello if he cheated on him, and even if it hadn't technically been cheating, he didn't know if Matt would see it that way.

And if he didn't tell Matt…? What would he do, not sleep for the rest of his life? He couldn't exactly do that either.

With no easy way out, he turned over to face Matt who, in typical fashion, had managed to settle sleeping in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable position to Mello, lying on his stomach but with his hips turned almost as if he was sleeping on his side. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the sleeping form, "I don't want to hurt you, but there is something you deserve to know."

He sat up and tried to prepare himself. As it turned out, there was no good way to prepare for telling Matt that he had kind of cheated on him. The only thing that he managed to do was almost talk himself out of it. _I could just wait for morning. He might take the news better if I didn't tell him right after waking him up… But if I wait, I probably won't end up telling him, at least not until tomorrow night when I try to sleep next to him again and can't think of anything else. …If I'm going to tell him, I should just get it over with before I lose my nerve._

Mello sighed, hesitated, and finally decided that this was the only way. "Matt?" he said, but the redhead continued to sleep. "Matt," he tried again, a little louder this time. Nothing.

_This is stupid. How am I going to explain why I'm waking him up? 'Sorry Matt; couldn't sleep.' If he did that to me, I'd be furious. No, I'll just go sleep on the couch._

He slowly slid off the bed, now trying not to wake Matt up. He tiptoed across the room, moving only as quickly as he dared. He stood with his hand on the door knob, first looking at his hand, then back to Matt, and then to his hand again. He considered going back to the bed but then pushed that from his mind and turned the doorknob.

When he pulled the door open, the hinges squeaked loudly. Matt was suddenly up, lunging out of bed. He got caught in the sheets and fell on his hands and knees to the floor but quickly righted himself and lifted up the corner of the mattress to withdraw a large knife.

"Matt! Oh my God! What are you doing? It's me!" Mello, who had been watching from the doorway, quickly blurted out upon seeing the knife.

"Shit, Mello. What are you doing? You scared the hell out of me. I thought someone had broke in," Matt sighed in relief, slumping back down onto the bed.

"Um, no… I, uh, just couldn't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I guess there's another thing I probably should have fixed when I first moved in, but I thought that door might make a good alarm in case someone tried to break in at night. I guess it did, but maybe now that you're sleeping in here too, I'll have to oil it."

"Sorry I woke you up…"

"No, uh, it's fine. I mean, I don't have to work tomorrow until later, so it doesn't matter. I'm just glad it was only you."

"Right." Mello turned back to the door, about to leave, but stopped himself. _Matt's up now… Should I tell him?_

He slowly closed the door and returned to the bed.

"Hey, are you okay?" Matt asked, "I thought you were getting up for something."

"No, well, yeah. It's just…" He didn't want to say it. Noticing the knife that Matt had sat on the edge of the bed, he found a way to stall. "How long have you had that in here?"

"Since the second night after I moved in. I didn't sleep at all the first night because I was so worried about someone breaking in. I kept hearing police sirens, and it really freaked me out, so I went out the next day and used some of the little bit of money I had left to buy a knife. I figured it was a good investment," he added with a shrug.

"Sorry about that."

"About what? Leaving? I told you; I forgive you. Let's just forget about it, okay?"

"Really?" Mello doubted he would still be forgiven after he told Matt what he had done.

"Yeah. You don't have to keep apologizing," Matt said, lying back down.

"Actually…" Mello paused, not sure if he wanted to go through with it. "I do," he finally said.

"No, you don't. You're forgiven. Let's just go to sleep."

But Mello had already decided what he had to do. "I…I need to tell you something…"

"Okay," Matt said, still lying on his back, looking up at Mello. The way he said it, sounding interested but otherwise indifferent, worried Mello. Matt was in no way prepared to hear this and gave little to no indication that he expected anything bad from what Mello had to tell him.

"I, um…" he started, but couldn't finish. He couldn't just drop that bomb on Matt. He had to do something to prepare him.

"Mello, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up.

"Please don't be mad at me," Mello blurted out. Even in the low lighting, Mello could see Matt's expression change to one of worry and apprehension, but he didn't respond. "Please…?"

"What happened?" Matt asked cautiously, ignoring Mello's request. He sighed, wanting Matt to promise that everything would be alright but not wanting to ask again. He looked at Matt, trying to read his expression. Matt would be mad at him, he was sure, but at the moment, he only looked concerned with Mello's wellbeing rather than with anything he might have done. It gave him the courage to continue.

"While I was with the Mafia… I did something…"

"It's okay," Matt said, taking one of Mello's hands in his own, "I'm sure you just did what you had to in order to stay alive."

"No, I didn't have to…"

"Mello, it's _okay_. You can tell me."

"It's not okay, Matt. I cheated on you." Matt dropped Mello's hand, pulling away.

"You…"

"I-No, I mean, we weren't together at the time so-"

"Who was it?" Matt said flatly, his expression blank.

"Just some girl at the Mafia hideout. It didn't mean anything. We didn't really even do anything." He looked to Matt, worried by the way he only sat there, frozen. "Matt…?"

"What-" He stopped, swallowing thickly. "What do you mean, you didn't do anything?"

"We kissed and, um… I, uh, felt her up a little, but nothing else."

"But you _wanted_ to do more," Matt accused.

"No, well yes, but no. I-"

"Which is it; yes or no?" For the first time since Mello had brought it up, Matt's voice carried a hint of anger.

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"I mean, I was going to, but she was only a distraction from _you_. I wanted _you_, Matt."

"I'm sure," Matt said sarcastically, his tone taking on a sharpened edge, "Because that's what you're supposed to do when you want _me_—go fuck some random whore!"

"That's not what it was…"

"Then please explain to me what it was because I'm _dying_ to know why you would ever think that was something that was okay." Matt's words truly hurt him, but he knew that he shouldn't have expected anything else; he had known that Matt would be mad if he told him.

"I'm sorry…"

"Right, because that's going to make everything okay. You're _sorry_."

"Please forgive me," he pleaded, "You said you forgave me…"

"Yeah, I forgave you for _leaving_, not for… for _this_. Because I wanted to try to start over. Because I thought you had learned your lesson and wanted me back too. Guess I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong. I _do_ want you back," Mello tried desperately. He was losing Matt.

"No, I _was_ wrong. I don't want you back. Get out."

"Matt, please…" Mello tried to take Matt's hand, but he jerked away the second there was the smallest bit of contact.

"Don't touch me. Get out."

"Let me explain. I-"

"I don't want to hear anymore! Just get out of the fucking room!"

"Matt-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" Matt yelled, pushing Mello from the bed. Mello stumbled backwards, regaining his footing. He didn't try to get back in bed with Matt nor did he leave; he simply stood there, not sure what to do.

"It wasn't really cheating-" he tried again.

"Then you and I have _very_ different definitions of 'cheating,'" Matt spat out, getting up from the bed. "Now get out!" He pushed Mello towards the door.

"I didn't do anything. That girl and I, we didn't do anything." Mello knew that he was stronger than Matt and could stay if he really wanted to, but instead, let Matt force him out of the room. The door was slammed in his face, and he was left back where he had started when he had first moved in.

"Matt, please. It wasn't cheating. We weren't together at the time, so it didn't count," he said loudly enough to be heard through the door. The only response he got was the click of the lock. "Matt… Matt, please. I know what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry, but I thought you had a right to know. Please, you have to understand. I did it because I was trying to distract myself from how much I missed you, but I couldn't. Even though we weren't together, it still felt like cheating. I couldn't do it, Matt. Because you were the only thing I could think about. You're the only one I ever think about; you have to believe me. Please Matt… you have to believe me…" He waited for a response but didn't receive one. "Matt…?" he asked the door, his voice pleading. Still nothing. "I love you," he said quietly, his heart sinking.

He took a step backwards, away from the door, but couldn't bring himself to move any further. He felt like he had forced them to take a step back in their relationship. Forget one step, they had just taken a giant leap in the wrong direction.

His hand went to touch the surface of the wooden door. Not even ten minutes previous, he had been in there with Matt; everything had been fine… They had finally gotten back together… _All the progress we made… was for nothing… All because I couldn't stand keeping my guilt to myself. He was so reluctant, but he still gave me another chance anyway, and this is how I repay him. He probably hates me now._

His hand slid from the door, and he took another step away from it, away from Matt. It was difficult, but he resigned himself to the living room, sitting down on the couch, his face in his hands. _What have I done…?_

If he could just press rewind and take back what he had said. Or better yet, if he could take back fooling around with that girl or even take back leaving entirely. But there was no 'undo' option. Once the words had left his mouth, there was no way to get them back.

He couldn't move. Any movement felt like it would push time forward, and if he couldn't turn back time, the least he could do was stop it. Because the next day would be so much worse. All Matt had really done was kick him out of bed.

But it was the middle of the night, and Mello had just dropped it on him; he'd probably just acted on instinct. He didn't want to be by Mello, so he had made him leave. But what would Matt do once he'd had time to think about it?

_What if he can't forgive me? We've been back together for less than 24 hours, and I've already managed to fuck everything up again. Every time something good happens to me, I find some way to sabotage it. What's wrong with me?_

He could feel tears start to well up in his eyes. He rubbed at them, trying to prevent the tears from escaping. He didn't want to sit there and feel sorry for himself; he wanted Matt back, to convince him that he was sorry.

Mello stood up and started back towards the bedroom door but stopped when he was halfway there, unable to take another step. Matt was already mad at him and clearly didn't want to see or talk to him; yelling through the door about how sorry he was would probably only upset Matt further. All this time, he had been telling himself that it was better to let Matt come to him; this was no different.

He turned back in the direction he had come from but didn't move. Even though he knew that he should wait until morning to say anything else about it, going back to sleeping on the couch felt wrong. He was supposed to be next to Matt, inches, not rooms away.

His rationale eventually won, and he resigned himself to the couch. He lay out across the cushions, not bothering to pull out the bed, staring up at the ceiling. _After all that, I doubt I'll be able to sleep anyway. What was the point? I should have just kept it to myself. But I would have had to tell him eventually anyway; I can't keep things from him anymore. I was just trying to be honest…_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Oh dear… I post a week late, and then I give you this. I'm sorry. Next week I'll post on time; I promise.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>death2society, Midnightkisses10, TrickledFingers, ILuvYa44, and an anonymous reviewer


	14. Chapter 13: Regression

I Forgive You by Every Avenue

**Chapter 13: Regression**

"Ugghh," Matt groaned into the pillow. He felt awful. He pulled the sheet up over his head, not wanting to get up.

It wasn't just that he was exhausted—although he certainly was, considering he hadn't been able to go back to sleep after Mello had woke him up—it was the fact that Mello was out there somewhere.

But he would have to get up eventually. The only other option was to hide out in his room for the rest of eternity. Anything else would have to at least start with opening the door and stepping out of the only room in the apartment that he was sure did not contain Mello.

_Or I could try to escape through the window. But I'm on the fourth floor… and there are bars on the window… Well, maybe if I grew a pair of wings and rammed the bed into the bars I could get away. That might work. And it would sure as hell be a lot easier than facing Mello._

He wished he would have done more than just force Mello from the room; if he had kicked him out of the apartment, things would be so much easier. But he hadn't thought about what the next morning would be like; after hearing what Mello had done, he had just wanted to get away from him. At the time, out of the room had seemed sufficient, but somewhere between kicking him out and now, Mello being a room away had became not nearly far enough, especially considering that he would have to go through said room to leave the apartment.

He didn't want to see Mello that morning, and he honestly didn't care if he ever saw him again. He didn't understand how Mello could do something like that to him and then expect to be forgiven._ Alright, so it technically __**wasn't**__ cheating, but he still betrayed me. And then blaming it on trying to distract himself because he missed me. Bull shit. If he actually did miss me, he would have been a little more concerned with fidelity._

He lay there, thinking about it, only becoming angrier. _While I was worried about getting him back, he was with some girl. Instead of trying to find him, I should have just forgotten about him. Found someone to replace him like he replaced me. All those times I came home late. Most people would have probably thought I was cheating on him, but he never acted like he suspected anything. Probably thought I wasn't capable. I fucking should've. That would have showed him._

He sat up, suddenly motivated. He knew what he needed to do, what would make him feel better about it.

He wasn't giving Mello anymore second chances; he didn't deserve them. The easiest solution—and what he hoped would leave the greatest impact on Mello—would be to kick him out of the apartment. Considering how desperate Mello had sounded, begging to be forgiven from the other side of the bedroom door, Matt hoped that this would be nothing short of devastating to Mello.

He could imagine Mello groveling, pleading for forgiveness, and how much he would enjoy denying him that forgiveness. Or at least, he wanted to enjoy it, but for some reason, that mental image only made him feel sorry for Mello. He pushed that from his mind, deciding his imagination wasn't doing it justice, and pressed forward.

He walked across the room and flung the door open, letting it bang loudly against the wall. He took a deep breath and continued out into the living room, ready to face Mello. But Mello wasn't there.

Matt looked around the room, confused. He had fully expected to find Mello asleep on the pullout couch, but instead, there was no sign of him or that he had even slept on the couch. _Damn. He couldn't have left, could he? Stupid Mello. Doesn't even allow me the satisfaction of kicking him out._

But then there was a sound from the kitchen that gave him hope. Sure, Mello leaving on his own would have been easier for Matt, but then he wouldn't have been able to watch him leave.

The thought gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Watching Mello leave, is that really what he wanted?

_Yes. I can't keep letting him do whatever he wants and act like it's okay. He hurt me… this is what he deserves…_

Although he had already decided what he must do, a sliver of self-doubt lingered in the back of his mind. It insisted that he didn't want Mello to leave, but that was ridiculous. Why would Matt want Mello to stay after everything he had done to him? It just didn't make sense.

When Matt entered the kitchen, he found Mello making scrambled eggs. But what only confused him further was that he was actually relieved to see the blond. _I just want to be able to see his face when I kick him out. I'm not actually happy that he's still here or anything…_

He stepped forward, and one of the floor boards squeaked, alerting Mello of his presence. The blond turned around, a look of surprise on his face which quickly turned to apologetic. "Oh, you're, uh, up," Mello said, leaning against the counter, spatula still in his hand.

Matt had every intention to respond, to tell Mello that he needed to get his stuff and leave, but instead, he stood there, mouth half open, not knowing what to say.

He didn't want Mello to leave, not really; he just wanted Mello to have never done anything with that girl. _I wish he wouldn't have told me. I would have never known then, and things would be fine… No, even if I didn't know, that wouldn't change the fact that it happened…_

"Um…do you want something to eat?" Mello asked when Matt did nothing but stand in the doorway. Something about this simple question angered Matt. How dare Mello act as if nothing was wrong.

"Really? After what you dropped on my last night, you ask me if I want something to eat? No, Mello, I don't. What I really want, I can't have, so I'm going to have to settle with telling you to leave." Matt took a step back, surprising himself with his own words.

"What…? Are you kicking me out?" Mello asked, clearly shocked.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Matt could hear disappointment in his own voice, and he hated it. This was what he had to do. It didn't matter how much he wished that Mello hadn't done certain things; it wouldn't change the past.

"But… I don't have anywhere else to go…" Mello looked at Matt, his eyes pleading, but Matt could only think of one thing. _Of course he's only concerned with himself._

"Not my problem." There was that feeling in his stomach again, but he didn't care.

"Matt, come on. You can't kick me out," Mello said with a small, uneasy laugh.

"Yeah, actually, I can. It's my apartment, remember?"

"But…I-"

"Don't you dare say 'I love you.' I can't take anymore of your lies." He kept his voice stern this time; he wasn't going to let Mello talk his way out of things this time.

"It's not a lie. I _do_ love you. And I'm sorry. For leaving, for…what I did, everything."

"I don't believe you."

"What do you want me to say, Matt?" Mello started, his voice rising, "You talk about how you can't stand to hear anymore lies, but now you're mad at me for telling you the truth? I could have just not told you about that girl which, by the way, was not cheating no matter what you say because we were _not_ together at the time. Would that have made you feel better? Sorry, you know, I just thought you had a right to know _the truth_."

Matt stood there, stunned by Mello's sudden outburst, for a few seconds longer than he would have liked to. This was not at all how he had imagined things would happen.

"Now you're mad at _me_ because _you_ did something stupid?"

"No, I'm mad at _you_ because _you're_ not listening to me. I'm sorry, okay? I was just trying to be honest."

"Right. Honesty. Well here's some honesty for you: while you were fooling around with some whore, I had a fucking breakdown!" he yelled back, infuriated by Mello's words. "Not that you care."

Mello looked like he was about to say something but then stopped. His expression, still clearly defensive and rather angry, changed slightly as he stood there, letting his concern show through. "What do you mean?" Mello asked, his voice still containing some of its harsh tone.

"Never mind. It's not important." He didn't want to let Mello know how much the entire situation had gotten to him, especially not then, not when he was supposed to be kicking Mello out of the apartment.

"Yes it is, Matt. Tell me," Mello demanded.

"No. Fuck you. Get out of my apartment."

"Come on, Matt. What's your problem? Just calm down."

"What's _my_ problem? Really? What's _your_ fucking problem, Mello? Is the idea of staying with me really that awful?"

"What are you even talking about? You're the one who wants me to leave!" Mello said, pointing at Matt accusingly with the plastic spatula.

"Don't act like you don't know. You fucking left me! _You_ left _me_! And then I come running after you like a good little bitch, and you act like it doesn't even fucking matter! Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe I shouldn't have come looking for you. But seeing you act like that _killed_ me. I…" He paused, his mouth dry. "I almost started smoking again because of you," he said flatly, no longer screaming at a rather stunned looking Mello. "Wouldn't have that been ironic. You know, since you were the one who made me quit and all." He wasn't sure why he was smiling or when he had stopped yelling, but he honestly loved seeing the way his confession affected Mello. "Maybe I should have started again," he tried, his voice nonchalant as if they were talking about the weather rather than in the middle of an argument, "I could have gone back to the way I was before. It would be just like you were never in my life."

"Shut up," Mello said flatly.

"You wanted to know," Matt shrugged. He felt much calmer after getting that out and was glad that he had finally said it. "Your eggs smell like they're burning," he added, gesturing to the frying pan next to Mello on the stove.

"Shit," Mello muttered, turning to around and poking at the burnt scrambled eggs with the spatula halfheartedly. "Fine. I did want to know," Mello continued, giving up on the eggs and dumping them down the garbage disposer, "but I didn't want all this shit attached to it. Do you really think if you started smoking again that it would somehow make it like we'd never met?" He left the pan and spatula in the sink and turned back around to face Matt, an eyebrow raised, questioning his reasoning.

"Maybe." A lie. He didn't think that, but he didn't want to admit defeat.

"Then you're an idiot. I'm the reason you started smoking in the first place. You told me when you were trying to quit, remember?"

Matt instantly opened his mouth to retort, but quickly realized Mello was, in fact, right and closed it, his lips set in a hard line.

"You know I'm right, don't you?" Mello said with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Look, it doesn't matter. I-"

"Because you know I'm right."

"Would you just shut up a second?" Matt said, his voice rising again. He could feel the anger start to bubble up in his chest again. "I don't care if you're right or not. Even if I did want to start smoking again, I wouldn't need your permission. I'm a big boy, Mello; I can make my own decisions."

"It doesn't sound like you can. You're being ridiculous!"

"Oh, so you can decide to cheat on me, but I can't decide if I want to smoke or not? At least I wouldn't be hurting anyone but myself."

"Matt, it wasn't cheating! We weren't together, so-"

"Maybe we weren't together. Maybe it _technically_ wasn't cheating. But it sure feels like it after everything I did to try to get you back!"

"I told you. I'm sorry!" Mello yelled.

"Right, because it sure sounds like you're sorry. Since it was so easy for you to find someone else, maybe I should have just forgotten about you and did the same. Amy's pretty cute; wonder if she'd like to go on a date with me. She might actually appreciate me unlike you."

"Who the fuck is Amy?" Mello demanded, his features contorted in outrage and shock.

Matt took a second to respond, partially because he knew it would irritate Mello and partially because he was trying not to let a smile slip through. "A girl I work with," Matt shrugged, loving how upset Mello was.

"You are not doing _anything_ with this Amy chick," Mello said through gritted teeth.

"Again, not your decision. If you can fool around with someone else, so can I."

"Fine," Mello spit out, throwing his hands up in resign. "Do whatever the fuck you want. See if I care."

"Good. I think I will," Matt said, a smug smile on his lips as he walked away from Mello, but then he remembered why he had came in there to begin with and turned back around. "And I want you out by the end of the week," he added before continuing to his room.

"Gladly," he heard Mello yell to him.

Matt closed the door to his room behind him and pulled some clothes out of the duffle bag he still kept everything in. He had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to get out of the apartment and away from Mello.

About a minute later he reemerged from his room, slamming the door behind him. He was about to throw the front door open when he paused. _Where am I even going?_

"I'm leaving," he yelled in the direction of the kitchen. A very small part of him, the part that had left the sliver of self-doubt in his mind, wished Mello would come tell him that he was being stupid and that they could work things out no matter what.

Instead, he heard Mello yell back sarcastically, "Have fun."

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. He slammed the front door like he had done the bedroom door and stormed off down the hallway towards the stairs.

He walked to the bus stop, fuming over how Mello was acting. _Who the hell does he think he is? I don't need his permission to do anything; I can do whatever I want. If I want to start smoking again I will. …Or I could just buy a pack of cigarettes and carry them around to make him think I started again. That should piss him off._

He couldn't help but smirk at this. It wouldn't nearly even start to pay Mello back for what he had done to hurt Matt, but it would be a start. _And maybe I will ask Amy out! …But I don't really want to lead her on, and I don't actually want to date her._

Standing there at the bus stop, thinking about it, he couldn't imagine ever dating a girl again. He had sort of dated Linda, if that's what it could even be considered, but that hadn't felt right. At the time, he had assumed that it had just been that he and Linda weren't right together. Besides, it had only been about a month after Mello had left so he wasn't exactly in a very sociable or happy mood. But now he was starting to think that it was just that he had never been attracted to girls.

_So then if I'm…gay._ He stopped and looked around as if checking to see if someone had overheard his thoughts. _What am I doing? It's not like anyone cares even if they could hear me. Aren't homosexual marriages legal in California? I could get married to any guy in the state, and no one would probably think anything of it._

It was weird for him, thinking of himself in that way. He'd been with Mello for over a year, but other than his initial concern about being attracted to a guy, he'd never really been concerned with labeling his sexuality. He wanted to be with Mello so he went with it, albeit reluctantly at first, but he didn't think much about it, and he certainly had never actually considered that he was not, and had possibly never been, attracted to the opposite sex.

But now that he had labeled it, he wondered about Mello. Mello had _almost_ cheated on him with a girl. And now his and Mello's relationship was falling apart; maybe it had been a fluke. Maybe what Mello really wanted was a girlfriend, and no matter how hard Matt tried, he could not fulfill that role.

Not that it mattered if they were breaking up anyway. _Are we…breaking up? Do I want to break up with him?_

He wasn't entirely sure. He didn't think he could forgive Mello for what he had done, but if they broke up and left things the way they were…would he ever even see Mello again?

The bus came, interrupting his thoughts. He hesitated, thinking that he should maybe just go back to the apartment and try to fix things, but he got on anyway. If he went home, that would tell Mello that he was sorry, and he wasn't.

He sat down in the first seat he saw, running a hand through his hair. He didn't know what he wanted, he had no idea where he was going, and he didn't even have anything more than a few dollars on him. _Maybe I'll just go to work. My shift doesn't start till later, but Amy should let me hang out in there until I'm supposed to start working._

He leaned back in the seat and watched as the city scenery passed by the window. _How did things end up like this? __**I**__ was supposed to be kicking __**him**__ out. Why am I the one leaving?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yay, I actually posted on time! Anyway, there actually is something I wanted to talk about here rather than just expressing how happy and a little shocked I am that I managed to update when I was supposed to.

I have no way of knowing if you guys actually listen to the songs I suggest at the beginning of each chapter, but if you don't normally, you really should listen to the song for this chapter. In addition to being a really good song (in my opinion), it really is one of the best fitting songs I have selected for the chapters of this fanfic, and I think the lyrics convey how Mattie is feeling in this chapter extremely well. So if you haven't already listened to it, you should go do that now…or at least right after you review :)

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Midnightkisses10, ILuvYa44, TrickledFingers, and (again) an anonymous reviewer. Really, if you put in a name, any sort of name at all, I can thank you for your input properly.


	15. Chapter 14: Trade

Save Your Scissors by City and Colour

**Chapter 14: Trade**

Mello sat down at the table, placing the large red cup on the surface and snapping off a couple pieces of the chocolate bar. He broke the squares into even smaller bits, dropping them in one by one. He watched as little rings of chocolate, hardly lighter than the surrounding coffee, formed at the surface where the pieces fell in, melting only slightly before dropping to the bottom of the cup. When the last chunk had been dropped in, he picked up the teaspoon that he had placed in the cup and stirred it slowly. Swirls of the chocolate surfaced as it melted more evenly in the cup. Time seemed to creep by as he waited.

Matt hadn't let him return to bed the night before, although Mello hadn't really expected him to. After only the one night—or half a night technically—Matt had quickly put a stop to that.

The morning after Matt had kicked him out of bed had been terribly long. At first he had been glad that Matt had left. If Matt wasn't going to be reasonable, he didn't want to be around him. But as he had stood there in the kitchen, going about his second attempt at making breakfast, he had slowly calmed down, and the realization of what their argument had come to started to sink in. He had until the end of the week to find another place to stay and move out.

Five days, that's all he had to try to convince Matt otherwise, and although it was a bit longer than the original demand to move out immediately, it still seemed impossible. And he had already wasted one of those days, leaving only four remaining.

Although, in truth, he had thought that Matt would have at least been in a better mood after he returned home from work. Mello thought if Matt had some time to cool off and see how ridiculous he was being, he would have reconsidered his demand.

He had been sure, or at least, he had told himself that he was sure Matt would realize that he was overreacting, but even so, he had wanted to take some sort of precaution, something that would put Matt in a better mood even if he was still angry when he came home. He didn't want to be gone when Matt returned, and considering he didn't know what time Matt's shift ended or even if he would come home right after he got off work, he couldn't leave the apartment lest risk missing his return.

Luckily, there was something to keep Mello busy while waiting that he hoped would also convince Matt that he was still committed to their relationship: he still had to finish cleaning the apartment. To begin with, it had been a sort of gift to Matt as a way to thank him for giving him a second chance, and although it really couldn't serve that purpose anymore, Mello hoped it would say that he wasn't ready to give up.

So that was how he had spent the previous day, cleaning and waiting for Matt to return. When Matt eventually did come home, much later than Mello imagined closing time for the shop would be, Mello had barely said a word when Matt cut him off with "Not tonight."

Mello had sat back down on the couch, figuring that his actions would have to speak for him since Matt didn't want to listen to his words and waiting for Matt to take notice of the work he had done. He heard the bathroom door close and reopen a second later. Matt walked back out into the living room and continued right past him to the kitchen. He had barely even looked in when he had turned back around and gave Mello a look that he couldn't quite place; it was almost as if he were questioning why Mello had even bothered. "This doesn't change a thing," Matt had said before walking past Mello and going back to getting ready for bed.

Those were the last words that Matt had said to him that night. Mello had gone to sleep on the couch, mentally kicking himself for his stupidity. He was going about things all wrong; he had been the entire time. He was being way too passive. Ever since Matt had found him at the Mafia hideout, he had been telling himself that he needed to wait for Matt to come to him, but that wasn't the case at all.

He needed to take action, especially considering that he only had four days left to convince Matt that he still wanted to get back together with him; there was no way Matt would come around on his own in that period of time, not given how things were going. And even though he hadn't wanted to, even though he was desperately trying to figure out his next move, his lack of sleep from the previous night had caught up with him and he had fallen asleep on the couch still in the clothes he had worn that day.

And there he sat, the morning after his failed attempt to win Matt over. Mello raised the cup to his lips, taking in the warmth of the coffee. He had a new plan…sort of. He was going to give Matt one last chance to figure out for himself that he actually did want to get back together with Mello, before doing something to make Matt come to this realization. The problem was that he didn't know exactly what any of this would entail or even what he could do to convince Matt, assuming he didn't decide on his own that he wanted to try again.

But he wasn't all that optimistic about Matt coming around on his own. Although he had only noticed it as a result of recent events, looking back, Mello realized that Matt had become increasingly stubborn and pigheaded starting all the way back with when they had moved into their house in Hokkaido. He had already known that through their living together, Matt had become much stronger, but sitting there, drinking his coffee, Mello discovered the connection this had to how Matt was acting now.

"You taught me to be like this," Matt had said at the Mafia hideout. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it; he'd been more concerned with trying to get Matt to think rationally. However, now that he was thinking about it, it was true. _I __**did**__ teach him to be that way. He used to be so dependent, and I taught him to…be like me, or at least, how I was before._

He looked down into the dark surface of the coffee, wishing that he had never been the domineering, crass person he had become thanks to his mistake of joining the Mafia. If he hadn't, Matt would never have learned those habits from him. _But… I've change a lot too because of him. If I taught Matt to be stronger, he taught me to be more compassionate. And I can't just let him forget what we had because he picked up a bad habit from me._

He heard the door to the bedroom creak open then and was suddenly distracted from his previous epiphany. He sat up a little straighter, straining to hear Matt's movements as he walked down the hall. He heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on a few seconds later. He relaxed, slouching down in the chair a bit now that he still had at least a few more minutes to wait for Matt to get out of the shower.

He tried to concentrate on figuring out what exactly he was going to say to Matt when he came out, but his thoughts didn't seem to want to cooperate. He kept thinking about Matt in the shower, only a couple rooms away. He could imagine a time when he would have joined Matt, but that hardly seemed appropriate now; the only thing that could possibly result from that would be Matt deciding Mello had to get out of the apartment immediately. But it didn't seem to matter; Mello couldn't take his mind off of it. By the time the water was turned off, Mello was no closer to deciding what he was going to say to Matt.

The bathroom door opened, and he listened to Matt's footfalls as he went back to the bedroom momentarily before finally heading in Mello's direction. Matt entered the kitchen, glancing at Mello briefly, before quickly looking away without a word.

"Good morning," Mello said, grasping at what to say and deciding that this was better than nothing.

"Really?" Matt said, not bothering to look at Mello but instead, opening one of the cupboard doors and pulling out a box of Pop-Tarts. Mello couldn't tell, but it sounded as if Matt were questioning if it was actually a _good_ morning rather than his choice of all too mundane words which seemed all the more likely. He decided to simply ignore what Matt had said.

"Uh, do you want to go out for breakfast?" Mello tried.

"Not really," Matt said, his still damp bangs flopping down into his eyes as he finally turned around, looking Mello straight in the eyes, "I'm good." The words, said in monotone, didn't carry any harshness but seemed to distance Matt from him. He walked out of the kitchen, one of the sliver pouches of Pop-Tarts in hand, without another word.

"Wait!" Mello called, getting up from the kitchen table and following Matt to the front door where he was pulling his boots on.

"No, Mello. I don't have time for this now. I actually do have to go to work. Whatever it is can wait until I get home," he said, opening the door. He paused and looked back at Mello. "Why don't you actually do something productive while I'm gone today? Maybe see if there are any apartments around here for rent, 'kay?" He didn't wait for an answer before closing the door behind him.

Mello had his hand on the doorknob, about to throw the door back open and go after Matt, when he stopped himself. It didn't matter; why bother? That was Matt's last chance. He wouldn't be changing his mind on his own.

Mello stepped back, still looking at the door. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should follow Matt especially after he had decided that he needed to abandon his old approach. _Forget it. I decided he had only one more chance to figure this shit out on his own, and I'm gonna stick to that. …Now I just have to figure out what I need to do next._

But then there was a grumbling sound in the otherwise quite apartment, and he sighed. It seemed the first thing he would have to do was eat something for breakfast. Besides, he was starting to get a headache from drinking what would have be black coffee if not for the few squares of chocolate he had stirred in on an empty stomach. Or it could have been from trying to figure out how to deal with everything that was going on in the short amount of time he still had left.

Either way, he resigned himself to the kitchen and grabbed the Pop-Tart box off of the counter where Matt had left it and sat down at the table once again. _I need to make a plan today. Who knows how long convincing Matt is going to take, and I only have a few days to do it._

He took the last pouch out of the box and ripped it open, biting into one of the Pop-Tarts. He looked down at the rectangular pastry, disappointed. Having not paid attention when he had opened them, he was disappointed to find that they were not chocolate. _Of course they're not chocolate; Matt bought them._

Not that it mattered. His Pop-Tarts not being the right flavor was currently the least of his worries. He looked at the unfortunately strawberry flavored Pop-Tart in his hand, trying to think of some brilliant plan to make Matt realize that he still loved him.

He needed something that would hold some sort of significance to Matt, something that would remind him of what they had. Spaghetti dinners had seemed to pop up frequently in their relationship and held a certain significance in that it was the first dish that Matt had taught Mello how to cook especially since it had been Matt's mother's recipe, but he couldn't do that. If he cooked that recipe, he would feel as though he was stealing it. It was Matt's, and he had really only borrowed it before; now that they weren't exactly on the best of terms, it didn't really seem right to use it.

But ever since Matt had taught him how to cook, cooking dinner together had kind of been their thing. And while he couldn't exactly force Matt to _make_ dinner with him, Mello could ambush him and at least make Matt _have_ dinner with him.

Mello picked up the second Pop-Tart, smiling to himself as he remembered their first "date:" the night they revealed their true names to each other. Even thought he was pretty sure that Matt didn't care if anyone saw them together in public anymore, he knew that Matt wasn't a fan of going out in public in general, and while he could take Matt out to dinner at a nice restaurant, it wouldn't be as personal as Mello making dinner for them.

_But I don't have any idea when Matt will even be home. How the hell am I supposed know when to have it ready?_ He sighed, examining the remaining half of the Pop-Tart as if it would give him the answer he was looking for.

He suddenly stood up, trying to finish his breakfast as quickly as possible without choking to death. He tossed the Pop-Tart box and the sliver wrapper in the trash can and downed the remaining half cup of coffee he still had before heading for the door. He felt so stupid; he could just call Matt's work and ask what time his shift would be over today. As long as Matt wasn't there yet, it should be fine.

He stopped at the door and turned around, realizing that he didn't have the number for the bookstore Matt worked in. He went to get Matt's laptop to look it up. He didn't realize until he was already in Matt's room that he probably shouldn't be in there, but quickly dismissed it. Matt wasn't home and would never find out, so it didn't really matter.

He quickly Googled the bookstore, glad that Matt had mentioned the name, and found the website. As he scribbled the phone number on his palm, he briefly wondered if it had been Matt who had set the website up but didn't really bother to think much of it before he closed the window on the laptop that he had opened and shut it back down, returning it to where he had found it. Now possessing the information he needed to make the call, he pocketed the pen so he could write down Matt's hours and ran out the door.

He ran down the stairs, worrying that he wouldn't get to the pay phone before Matt's shift started. If Matt got there before he could call and answered the phone, all he would be able to do was hang up.

If he still had his cell phone, things would be easier, but he still had no idea if he had left it in Hokkaido or if he had lost it somewhere between leaving Matt and rejoining the Mafia. Either way, he didn't have it with him and would have to use a pay phone since Matt hadn't left his cell phone in the apartment. Luckily, he remembered seeing one at the bus stop when they had passed it on the way to the grocery store.

Upon reaching the pay phone, he grabbed it and quickly dropped it. It was sticky. He looked down at the phone swaying on the metal cord with disgust and then around for something he could pick it up with. He didn't see anything he could use besides a newspaper on the ground nearby which looked as if it might be even less sanitary than the pay phone, so he gave up on the idea and picked the phone up between his thumb and forefinger, trying to touch it as little as possible. He put in a few quarters and entered the phone number he had written on his hand.

As the phone rang, he realized that he was still out of breath from running there and tried to steady his breathing. When his breathing had finally returned to normal, he heard someone pick up the phone on the other end and say something that made it feel like someone had knocked the wind out of him. "Hello. King Used Books. Amy speaking; how can I help you?"

Mello had originally doubted the seriousness of Matt's 'threats' to start smoking again and/or do anything with this Amy girl that he had never even so much as mentioned before, but at least with the latter, it was partially because he thought that Matt was making Amy up. He had _never_ mentioned her before he had made his 'threat' so Mello had no reason to think that she was real.

"Hello?" the girl said when he didn't respond.

"Uh… can I have the address of your store?" he asked, realizing that he had neglected to get it when he had looked up the phone number. Besides, it gave him a bit more time to decide what he really wanted to do as he was suddenly reconsidering even asking about Matt. He pulled the pen out of his pocket and scribbled the address down on the arm of the hand he was holding the phone with, trying not to drop it but keep it a safe distance from his face as he wrote.

"Anything else, sir?" Amy asked him cordially.

"Yeah, uh, I'm a…a friend of Matt's," he said, deciding to continue with the plan anyway, "I wanted to surprise him and pick him up from work, but I don't know when his shift ends today."

"I'm sorry. I'm not allowed to give out that kind of information. I can give him a message if you want though."

Mello sighed. "No, uh, no message. Are you sure you can't just tell me _about_ when he's going to be done working? Even if you knew that I actually knew him? Has he ever mentioned…any of his friends? Maybe someone named Mello?" he tried, not quite hopeful, but deciding it was worth a shot.

"You're…Mello?"

"Yeah," he said excitedly. Maybe things weren't as hopeless as he had thought. "I'm Mello. He must have at least mentioned me. So when should I be there?" He held the pen ready to write down the time he needed to be at the bookstore.

"I'm sorry. I…I think you should leave Matt alone," she said hesitantly, and Mello's heart dropped.

"No! I mean, I don't know what he's said, but you have to believe me; I'm trying to fix things," he blurted out, starting to panic.

"Look," she said, dropping the formal pretense, "All I know is that he came into work one day with a black eye and a bloody lip, and all I could get out of him was that it had something to do with you."

"That wasn't me; I would never do that to him! I-" he said a bit more forcefully that he knew he probably should have. "Can you just tell me if he's asked you out?" he said, giving up.

"What, like on a date? Of course not," she said as if it were a ridiculous notion. "Why?" She added it almost as an afterthought, clearly curious but trying to pass it off as nonchalant.

"Because he said he was going to, but I think it was just to try to make me jealous or something," he answered, relieved that Matt hadn't actually done it.

"So…what exactly happened?" He was surprised that she would ask since only a second ago she had seemed like she was about ready to hang up on him. Not that it mattered; it seemed like she desperately wanted to hear the gossip about her coworker, and that was something Mello could use.

"How about this," he said, hoping that she would take the bait, "You tell me when I should be there to get Matt, and I'll tell you what happened?"

She seemed to think it over for a moment before answering. "…Alright…but I'll tell you what time Matt's shift ends _after_ I find out what happened."

"Fine," he said, just happy that he might actually have a chance now.

He gave her an abridged version, starting with their moving into the house in Hokkaido and ending with what had happened that morning. He of course left out how they had been hiding from the NPA and how he had went back to the Mafia, but was for the most part truthful even if he left out a lot of details seeing as he had to compress their story, which spanned over a year, into only a few minutes. He knew that her opinion of him and the story would be what determined if he got the information he wanted, but he decided if he painted an image of himself in an overly positive light that she would likely not believe him as she had started with what seemed like a very negative opinion of him.

"So then how did Matt get beat up like that?" she asked when he had finished, still skeptical.

"A gang got to him when he was leaving after that first time we saw each other," he lied.

"But why did you act like you wanted nothing to do with him then, and now you want to get back together?" He felt like he was being interrogated. "He was devastated, you know," she added as if it proved some sort of point.

"Believe me, I know. And I'm really sorry I hurt him like that, but I realized that I was wrong. …I need him."

"Hmph," was the only sound he heard for what seemed like an eternity, and he thought that he had failed. "Well… his shift ends at 5:30," she finally said.

"Thank you so much. Really, you don't know how much this means to me."

"Sure, no problem," she said earnestly.

"And, uh, could you not tell Matt about this? I really need it to be a surprise, or I think he might try to stop me or something."

"Not a word. But Matt's right outside the shop, so I have to go. Good luck. Bye."

"Thanks. Bye," he said and hung up the phone. He stepped out of the phone booth and started towards the grocery store, feeling much better about the prospects of the day than he did an hour before.

• • •

"Hey, Matt," Amy said, hanging up the phone.

"Hey," he returned halfheartedly. "Who was that?"

"Oh, no one." She was having a hard time keeping the smile off her face. "Why, were you expecting someone?"

"No," he said giving her a strange look. "I heard you say 'good luck.' I was just curious," he shrugged.

"Just a customer looking for a rare book. I checked our database, and we didn't have it, so I wished him good luck finding it. That's all," she said with a smile as she clocked out on the computer.

"You seem awfully happy today—I mean, more than normal. Did something great happen?"

"Can't I just be in a good mood? I should be asking you why you're so grumpy today."

"Don't want to talk about it," he said clocking in when Amy stepped out of the way.

"You never do," she sighed. "If you must know, someone told me a really cute, romantic story this morning, and now I guess I just feel really optimistic about today."

"You're always optimistic," Matt said flatly.

"Maybe you could learn something from me. You never know, by the end of the day, something wonderful could happen," she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "Good luck," she called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

"Good luck with what?" she heard Matt yell back as the door closed behind her, and even if she hadn't promised Mello that she wouldn't say anything, she didn't feel like ruining the surprise of what the day had in store for him. He would have to wait and figure that out for himself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know this chapter is really late, and I'm very sorry. I just have much less time than I anticipated I would, so I can't promise that I'll be able to post at regular intervals, but I will do my best to post as frequently as I possibly can. And considering what I have planned for the next chapter, I am very eager to start working on it as soon as possible ;)

But in the mean time, I would love to hear how you guys think Mello's plan will go, so please review and give me your best predictions :)

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Hmph, TrickledFingers, Midnightkisses10, Who needs a name, Moonlit917, death2society, Chase Mihael Keehl, mockingjay-lawliet-paramore


	16. Chapter 15: Want

**Warning:** Notice that the rating has changed. That's all I'm gonna say.

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><p>Pull My Hair by Bright Eyes<p>

**Chapter 15: Want**

"And that's just about it," Matt said with a sigh, clocking himself out in the hope that he would be able to get out of there if even a little faster. Under any other circumstance, he would have been happy with the afternoon shift, but today, it meant that he was stuck training the new guy. He and Amy had had to flip a coin the day before to decide who was going to take which shift, and chance had not been in his favor.

But Amy's actions that morning were still on his mind. She was always a very happy and optimistic person, but her behavior had been more than that—the only thing that he could think of was that she was happy that she didn't have to train this guy who had turned out to be really slow. Working at the book store wasn't by any means difficult, but this guy either was too thick to grasp how their organization system worked, or he just didn't care enough to pay attention. Either way, it finally made sense as to why Amy had wished him good luck—he desperately needed it when it came to this idiot.

"Got it," the teenage boy said, although he didn't appear to be paying attention in the slightest.

"Great," Matt replied. He didn't care if the teenager 'got it' or not at that point; he just wanted to get out of there, and even though he doubted that this guy was ready to take care of the store on his own yet, they were short staffed as it was.

Matt heard the bell above the door chime and sighed. He wasn't entirely sure that he should leave this guy alone with a customer. "Hurry up and clock in so you can take care of this customer," Matt grumbled, motioning halfheartedly to the computer.

"Uh, right," the boy said moving to the computer and trying to copy how he had seen Matt go through his example. Matt waited for him to greet the customer as was protocol, but he didn't, only continuing to fumble at the keyboard.

"Welcome to 'King Used Books,'" Matt said for him. "Is there anything…" he started, finally looking up from the screen. He could only stand there and stare. Of all the people that could have walked through the door, he hadn't ever expected to see the one who did.

Mello stood just inside the door, a bouquet of lavender in his hand, breathing heavily as if he had ran there. "Hi, Matt," he said awkwardly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"You're supposed to say 'Is there anything I can help you with,'" the boy offered, finally having figured out how to clock in on the computer. Although he was a bit surprised the boy had remembered even this much, Matt only glared at him before turning back to Mello, still waiting for an answer.

"I thought I would pick you up from work today," Mello shrugged almost as if it was to be expected.

"Right. Of course," he returned flatly, "You decided to waste time picking me up from work instead of—oh, I don't know—doing something productive, like finding another place to stay."

"Exactly," Mello said, a Cheshire cat grin crinkling the scarred skin on his cheek. "We should get going if your shift's over."

"And if it's not?"

"Well, it should have ended," Mello said, looking to the clock on the wall, "ten minutes ago, so unless you have somewhere else to be…"

"I…" he started, considering making up something, anything, to get him out of going home with Mello. He didn't understand why Mello just wouldn't give up. He thought he had made it pretty clear that he didn't want to get back together, or…at least that he couldn't allow himself to get back together with Mello.

But then he looked to the flowers in Mello's hand. Lavender. He wasn't sure where he had even found a florist in the area, but that bouquet forced him to remember their home in Hokkaido, and he had to stop himself. He didn't want to give any more excuses. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before all this.

"Okay, fine," Matt muttered and turned back to the guy he had wasted an hour of his life on training. "You think you can handle everything?"

"What? Oh, uh, yeah," he said, obviously confused by the scene that had unfolded in front of him.

"Alright then. Let's go," Matt said, pushing past Mello and stepping out onto the sidewalk. He wasn't sure if he was going to end up regretting this, but really, what could go wrong? Even if it did turn out to be a mistake, Mello would be leaving in a few days anyway.

Mello followed him out the door and to the bus stop. "I thought you might like these," he said holding out the flowers for Matt to take, but when he looked to them, he noticed something that distracted him.

"Are you stalking me?" he asked, only half joking when he noticed the writing on Mello's arm. Though it was a bit messy, the phone number and address of the book store, along with Matt's hours were clearly scrawled across Mello's forearm.

"Something like that," the blond said, offering the flowers to Matt again as they reached the bus stop.

Matt looked at the lavender, conflicted. He knew what Mello was trying to do, and he didn't want to fall for it…but at the same time, it was working. In truth, Matt was tired of being angry with Mello; he just wanted this to be over, and although he had thought he was alright with his previous decision to end things permanently, it seemed a waste to just throw away everything between them. _No, I'm not the one who threw it away. Mello did. But…he's clearly trying…_

"Thank you," he said reluctantly, taking the bouquet. Immediately, the scent of the lavender brought memories of their old life rushing back. The first time they said 'I love you' to each other, the 'redo' of Mello's birthday, making up in the hospital after the fight that had ultimately gotten Mello a couple more scars—that scent had been with them throughout it all.

"Are you blushing?" Mello asked, surprise in his voice.

"It's… it's just hot out is all," Matt lied as the bus pulled up, taking the opportunity to step in front of Mello as he climbed the couple stairs that led into the bus so that he couldn't see his face. He flashed his bus pass for the driver to see before quickly taking a seat. He couldn't believe that he was blushing, and Mello noticing had only made his cheeks burn hotter.

He turned away when Mello sat next to him, trying to hide his face. "Are you okay?" Mello asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Matt answered curtly. He couldn't exactly explain that his mind had gotten stuck on that day they had made up for Mello's missed birthday, and it wasn't his fault that Mello had decided to christen the house that day by having sex in every room, or what had ended up being just about every room. He tried to think of something else, but the scenery outside the bus provided little distraction.

Luckily for Matt, the bus ride wasn't too long, though it seemed to drag on what with the silence that had fallen over them. It wasn't necessarily that Matt didn't want to talk to Mello—if anything, the bouquet of lavender and the memories that came with it left him wanting to make amends—it was that with Mello in such close proximity and his thoughts where they were, he felt extremely awkward, and he would be lying to himself if he thought that he didn't want Mello back. _I shouldn't be feeling like this. I already decided that I don't want to get back together…but what if I made a mistake…and he's so close… No! Absolutely not. I just need to forget about it and calm down._

He let out a sigh and tried to relax his rigid muscles. When he did so, his leg moved over not even half an inch, but it was enough for his thigh to touch Mello's if only for a second before he tensed up again, this time actually scooting away from the blond slightly.

Mello gave him a weird look, but didn't say anything, for which he was grateful. Rather, Mello just stood up and started for the front of the bus. He watched the blond move away from him, confused, that is, until he realized the bus had stopped. He had been too distracted by his own thoughts to realize that the bus had pulled up to their stop. Matt followed him, glad for the extra distance between them.

He walked slightly behind Mello, not really paying attention to his surroundings as they walked towards the apartment building. He looked up from the ground at Mello, only intending it to be a glance, but he ended up staring when he saw the apprehensive expression that Mello wore. He couldn't understand what Mello had to worry about; after all, it was Matt who had freaked himself out after obsessing over how attracted he still was to the blond, and it was Matt who was waging an internal battle with himself over whether the entire concept of breaking up with Mello had been a mistake.

Mello suddenly turned to glance back at him, and Matt quickly looked down to his feet. "Matt, is something wrong?" Mello asked again although this time it came out more of a demand.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who decides out of the blue to bring flowers to me at work," he snapped back quite a bit more harshly than he had intended.

"Are you really that offended by flowers?" Mello asked lightly, but his uneasy laugh gave Matt the impression that, for whatever reason, he actually was nervous about something.

"I just don't understand," Matt answered, half to Mello and half to himself. _Why did he have to do this? It would have been so much easier to stay mad at him if he wasn't trying so hard._

"I'm surprised," Mello responded, opening the door to the apartment building for Matt, "I think I've made it pretty obvious." He walked through the door and waited for Mello to continue, but he didn't, he only started up the stairs, and Matt was left following him again.

When they had reached the fourth floor landing and Mello had still not said anything else, Matt was starting to get a bit impatient. It didn't matter what he assumed Mello was trying to do; he needed Mello to say it.

Matt pushed in front of Mello and stood in front of the door to his apartment. "You know what? Why don't you just spell it out for me," he said, pointing the bouquet at Mello almost accusingly.

Mello let out a sigh. "Matt, really? Just go inside." He looked at Mello, hesitating. He honestly wasn't sure if it was Mello being difficult or him, but he decided to give it up this time and unlocked the door.

The second he pushed the door open, he could smell the dinner that Mello had prepared. For a second, he completely forgot about what he had asked of Mello and followed the wonderful smell that was wafting out of the kitchen. He found the small table they had bought at the thrift store set for the two of them, a large covered pan sitting in the center on a hot pad.

Matt was stunned. He couldn't believe that Mello had went to all this trouble even after he had basically kicked him out. "It smells great" was all he managed to say.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to roast the chicken in the oven," Mello said, walking around Matt, who had still not moved, "but once I got back, I realized all I had was a hole in the wall, so I had to go with cooking it in a pan on the stove." He lifted the cover off the pan, revealing pieces of chicken breast laid out on a bed of pasta in what appeared to be a cream sauce.

"You did all this by yourself?" Matt asked incredulously.

"I learned from the best," Mello said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into a smile. He served them each a helping of the chicken and pasta and looked back to Matt. "Are you going to stand there all night, or do you want to come and eat?"

"Right…" Matt said, finally stepping into the kitchen. He placed the bouquet of lavender on the counter before sitting down at the table hesitantly. He knew he was giving in, and he wasn't so sure that was a bad thing anymore.

"I…I know I've already said this, but I'm sorry. It's just-" Mello started, but Matt didn't give him a chance to finish.

"Mello, please don't. I don't want to hear this again." He had heard enough of Mello's apologies; there was nothing else to say. It wasn't needed anymore.

"Matt," he tried, a note of frustration in his tone, but he sighed out heavily and continued, his voice calmer, "just hear me out, alright?" Matt motioned for him to continue. If Mello wanted to waste his time with an unneeded apology, that was up to him. "When I left, I was just running away from my problems. I've done it my entire life."

Matt nodded slowly, waiting for Mello to finish. He picked up his fork and took a bite of the food Mello had made for them. It was by far the best thing that Mello had ever made; he really had learned well.

"Matt, are you listening to me?" Mello questioned, sounding annoyed.

"Yeah. Running away from problems. Continue."

"I'm serious. This is important," Mello said, frustrated.

"Mels, I know, but I've already heard all this. I _know_ you're sorry." Matt looked across the table at the blond. Mello was gaping at him. "What?" he asked, confused, "I'm sorry if I offended you. Really, keep going; I'll listen."

"You called me Mels…" Mello breathed out.

"Yeah, so?"

"So you practically bit my head off when I tried to call you Mattie."

"Oh…right. Sorry about that. I guess I overreacted," he said earnestly, offering a small apologetic smile, "What did you want to tell me? I'm listening now."

"I'm sorry because, well, I had a lot of time to think while I was hiding in my room when I was with the Mafia, and I realized something. My entire life I've hated my mother for leaving me at that orphanage, but I'm no better than her. She abandoned _me_, but I abandoned _you_, and I'm sorry for that."

Matt could only stare. Mello had only ever talked about his mother the one time way back when he had been trying to quit smoking. He knew how hard it must have been for Mello to make this connection and then to share it with him. He was ashamed of how he had acted, not wanting to even let Mello explain.

"Stop," he said gently, reaching across the small table and taking Mello's hand, "Don't ever compare yourself to her. You are nothing like her."

"You're wrong," Mello said solemnly.

"No, I'm not"

"How? How am I different than her?"

Matt looked across the table at Mello's sad expression. He hadn't a clue how to respond to that, so he said what he felt. "You know, I don't really know. I didn't know her, but I know you, and even after everything you put me through, I can still forgive you and somehow…I still love you."

He didn't fully understand what he had just admitted until after the words left his mouth. He tensed again and looked down at his hand which still held Mello's. He didn't know what it was doing there. He had gotten swept up in the moment and let Mello see his cards too quickly. _How could I just blurt that out? I don't even know what I want…_

Matt didn't know where he had made a mistake, whether it had been going after Mello in the first place or trying to kick him out of the apartment or admitting that he could still forgive him, but it didn't really matter so much anymore because he knew what he wanted: Mello. The entire time he had been telling himself that there was no way he could allow himself to get back together with Mello, but that had never been true. He was done holding grudges.

He lifted his gaze slowly up to Mello's face. The blond looked at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. Matt couldn't help but smile at Mello's expression. "You look a bit like a fish," he said and could feel himself relax.

Mello closed his mouth at this remark, only to open it again to say something. "What…do you mean?" he said slowly.

"You know. A fish. They swim around in the ocean; they have fins and scales and stuff," he said jokingly.

"I know what a fish is, Matt," Mello replied testily, his look of surprise replaced by one of slight annoyance. "I mean, are you saying that you want to get back together? Again," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm saying that—against my better judgment—I forgive you, and I love you, so…yeah, I guess that means I want to get back together."

"Wow, I never thought it would be this easy," Mello breathed out, more or less talking to himself.

"Yeah, neither did I," Matt answered, taking his hand back, though reluctantly, so that he could continue eating. "You and your stupid flowers," he added with a small laugh.

"Really? The flowers helped then?" Mello asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"Are you kidding me? If you hadn't, I probably wouldn't have even come back to the apartment with you."

"But…they're just flowers. I only even thought to get them at the last minute. Like, _really _last minute. I had to run back to the book store because I thought you were going to leave before I got there."

"You're wrong. They're not _just_ flowers," Matt said. "Why did you decide to get lavender?"

"Because I was hoping they would remind you of how things were before all this."

"Exactly. It worked," Matt sighed, "It made me miss _us_."

"So…I mean, I know we're still going to have to work on things, but are we okay now?"

"Yeah, we're okay. But…" he started, remembering something, "I need you to answer a question for me. Be completely honest." Mello nodded. "Why did you…almost sleep with that girl at the Mafia hideout?"

Mello blanched, going several shades lighter than his usual fair skin tone but hesitated to answer. "I mean, I know that you said it was to distract yourself," Matt said, hoping to help Mello along, "but after I thought about it, it got me thinking that our relationship was a fluke. I mean, I'm the only guy you've ever been with, right?"

"Mattie, our relationship wasn't a fluke," Mello chided gently, "And so what if you are the only guy I've ever been with? I'm the only guy _you've_ ever been with."

"Yeah, but I lost my virginity to you. You're the _only_ person I've really ever been with. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm gay."

"Ah, okay, I see what you're getting at," Mello said, pushing the remainder of his food around his plate with his fork. "When I was, uh, making out with that girl, I realized I wasn't really attracted to her. I don't know, I guess I'm still attracted to some women, but I don't want to have sex with them or anything. You on the other hand," Mello finished, looking up from his plate at Matt with a sly smile.

Matt could feel as heat started to rise in his cheeks. "So…" he said.

"So, I guess you could call me Matt-sexual," Mello said, finishing for him. Matt swallowed thickly at the implications. His mouth was dry; he needed water. He reached for his glass, trying to act normal, but when he brought it to his mouth, water dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt. "See," Mello said, laughing hysterically, "_So_ attractive."

Matt could only sit there, blushing furiously and blotting at the water that had fallen onto his shirt with a paper napkin. _Why? Things were going so well, and I had to mess it up. No, I was getting too swept up in the moment. That would have only led to…doing something stupid. It's better that this happened._

He was amazed by how the atmosphere changed, going from laced with sexual tension to awkward so quickly. But when he looked up from his shirt to Mello, who still wore a very seductive smile, he wondered if it was just him. Mello used to tell him how cute he was, and now Matt wondered if the actions he would have labeled as stupid or childish were a turn on for the blond. It seemed odd to him and if anything, only made him feel more awkward.

"I think I'm done," Matt said, standing up. He just wanted the dinner to end before things got any weirder. Getting back together had been sufficient progress for the day; everything else could wait.

He sat his plate in the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the sink fill so he could do the dishes, but Mello was suddenly at his side. "You don't have to. Let me do the dishes," he said, putting his own plate in the water.

"Oh, uh, alright," he said but wasn't really sure what to do instead, so he just stood there while he watched Mello put the remaining food away. Mello returned to the now almost full sink and dropped the pan in. Soapy water splashed up onto Matt's shirt.

Mello turned the water off and looked back to Matt. "Well, might as well just take it off now," the blond shrugged.

Matt's hands went hesitantly to the hem of his shirt but stopped. He thought it might be a mistake, but wasn't entirely sure that he cared.

Mello's hands brushed past his own and took hold of the fabric. He paused as if asking if it was okay for him to continue. Rather than giving any indication one way or the other of if he wanted Mello to keep going, he yanked the shirt over his head himself and dropped it on the floor. A second later, he had Mello pushed up against the counter, his hands in his hair, smashing his lips to the blond's.

Mello let out a small gasp of pain as his lower back hit the edge of the counter. "Sorry," Matt mumbled before taking advantage of Mello's open mouth. Mello was slow to respond at first, but as he recovered from the shock, he started to participate more readily. His hands trailed down Matt's bare sides to his hips, pulling them closer to grind against his own, and his tongue pushed past Matt's into the redhead's awaiting mouth. Matt could feel Mello's growing erection through his pants which only served to increase his own.

Matt broke away for air and took the extra few seconds to force Mello's shirt up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. With the thin layer of material out of the way, he leaned back into Mello, their bare chests flush against one another, and kissing along the blond's jaw line before going an inch or so lower to his neck.

Mello tilted his head back, giving Matt better access. He kissed and sucked and bit at Mello's neck, all the while listening as Mello's breathing became heavier in his ear and loving that he was doing this to him. Matt felt as one of Mello's hands, which had once again found their way to his hips, shifted forward and slowly undid his belt.

Matt pulled back to look Mello in the eyes. "Not in the kitchen," he said with a coy smile, "We aren't breaking anymore tables." A grin spread across Mello's face at his words, and he leaned forward to kiss Matt again.

Matt attempted to lead them out of the kitchen without breaking the kiss which was growing more passionate by the second. It worked for the most part, at least until Mello suddenly had him pressed up against the doorway, thoroughly raping his mouth and unzipping his jeans. Once the button was undone, the jeans sagged down his hips, threatening to fall off.

"Come on. Bed. Now," Matt demanded, panting heavily; he _needed_ Mello as soon as possible. Mello nodded and kisses him lightly once more before pulling him through the living room and towards the bedroom. Unfortunately, his pants were slipping further down his legs, making it increasingly more difficult to walk without tripping. Much to Mello's amusement, he had to stop halfway through the living room to take them off. Disgusted by the wasted time, he pushed past Mello and practically dragged him to his room.

Mello hesitated when they reached the bedroom, and Matt quickly figured out what it was about. "Yes, you're allowed back in. Now get on the bed and take your pants off." Mello turned and gave him an amused look. He had never really been one to be so demanding in bed.

"Anything else?" Mello asked with a smirk, not moving from where he stood.

"Just do it," Matt said, giving him a playful push towards the bed. He watched as Mello crossed the room and slowly removed his pants before settling on the bed. In seconds, he was on top of Mello, kissing him, hands holding his sides firmly, hips grinding into his.

He pulled away slightly to give himself just enough room to pull his boxers off and deposit them on the floor. As soon as he went to lean back down, Mello had his leg wrapped around his waist and flipped them. One of his hands reached down to slip his own boxers off while he kissed down Matt's neck, adding soft bites that made Matt's skin tingle.

Mello continued to move down Matt's body until Matt felt him take his cock into his pleasantly warm, wet mouth. Mello's tongue swirled around the head as he played lightly with Matt's balls before dipping lower but not quite to the base. Matt couldn't help it, he needed Mello to go just that little bit further. Almost as if he didn't have control of his hand, it found its way to the back of Mello's head and forced him to take his length in its entirety.

He could feel Mello's throat contract around his member which only aroused him further, but Mello suddenly pulled back violently, gagging. "Trying to kill me?" he accused, a hint of anger in his tone.

"Sorry," Matt apologized quickly, sitting up to see Mello standing at the edge of the bed, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. It was strangely intoxicating seeing Mello stand there, glaring down at him, completely naked and clearly still very hard despite that little mishap. "Come here," he said, patting the space next to him on the bed.

Mello complied, though somewhat reluctantly, and Matt was once again on top of him. He wasted no time, starting to prepare him right away. He slipped two fingers into Mello's tight orifice, trying to stretch it as this time, he ran his tongue up the underside of Mello's cock, licking the precum that was starting the drip from the tip. He added a third finger which made Mello squirm a little, and he remembered something.

"I don't have any lube," Matt said, hearing the disappointment in his own voice.

"It's okay. It's fine. I don't care," Mello said rather unconvincingly, wincing as Matt stretched him farther with his fingers.

"Are you sure?"

"Matt, I don't care. Just fuck me!"

Matt took that as invitation enough and pulled his fingers out. He sat back and motioned for Mello to turn over. With Mello on his hands and knees, he slowly pushed into him.

A strangled noise escaped Mello's throat as a result of the pain. Matt felt terrible for being the source of that pain but saw no reason to stop; if he did, they would both be left unsatisfied, and Mello's discomfort would have been for nothing. So without hesitation, he worked to increase his pace, trying to angle into the spot that would make it worth it for Mello. This time, a gasp was elicited from Mello, followed by groan that told Matt that he had found what he was looking for.

He pressed in and out of Mello, feeling himself grow closer to climax, yet Mello didn't seem quite there. He reached down, removing one of his hands from their grip on Mello's hips, and took the blond's engorged flesh in his hand, pumping it in rhythm with his thrusts.

What made it difficult was when Mello started to buck into his hand. It broke his pace, but after a few more fast, wild thrusts, he came inside of Mello, and as he pulled out, Mello released into his hand.

He collapsed on the bed next to Mello who rolled over onto his back. As he lay there, panting, he felt Mello's fingers lace between his own of his currently non-sticky hand. He looked over at Mello who had his eyes closed and a small grin that almost resembled a smirk on his face.

Yes, Mello had gotten what he wanted; they were back together. But Matt was okay with letting him think that he had won. After all, Matt once again felt that their one mistake was breaking up in the first place.

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><p><strong>AN:** I know it's been _forever_ since I last updated, but I hope the length of this chapter coupled with the, uh, we'll say "happy ending" made up for it :3

And you can thank my beta, foreverunloved, for getting this chapter back to me within a couple hours of my sending it; otherwise I probably wouldn't have been able to post it till next weekend.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Midnightkisses10, TrickledFingers, Chase Mihael Keehl, mockingjay-lawliet-paramore, death2society, somebodykillme, VampirePrinssess, and an anonymous reviewer


	17. Chapter 16: The Future

**Disclaimer:** This chapter contains references to the songs "Daylight" by Aesop Rock and "Words, Words, Words" by Bo Burnham. I do not own these songs, any of the songs I've paired with each chapter, _Death Note_, nor Matt and Mello.

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><p>Promise You the Ocean by Evil Us<p>

**Chapter 16: The Future**

Mello sat at the kitchen table with Matt's laptop, more or less just trying to kill time while he waited for the redhead to wake up. He sighed, bored out of his mind. Matt really needed to learn to wake up earlier. It was fine when they lived in Hokkaido; Mello could entertain himself when they had lived in their house there. Matt's apartment, however, was different. Mello had woken up that morning, taken a shower, gotten dressed, ate breakfast, and was left with absolutely nothing to do.

So after much deliberation, he eventually decided sneaking back into the bedroom and getting Matt's computer was better than trying to pass the time by staring at the ceiling. His attempt had been successful, thanks to the fact that Matt had fixed the door hinges so that they didn't screech anytime someone opened the door, but he found that there wasn't really much to do on the computer either.

Mello had never understood how Matt could spend hours looking through random things on the internet, so that was out of the question, and he wasn't about to look through Matt's files on the off chance that Matt were to actually get up anytime soon and come out to the kitchen to find him snooping through his stuff. Instead, he decided he couldn't go wrong with a simple game of solitaire.

He liked solitaire. Or rather, he liked it until he lost and then became obsessed with winning. But after six games he decided the computer could very well be changing the cards, making it impossible for him to win. Left with nothing to do again, he opted to go through Matt's music, deciding it wasn't inappropriate like going through his files would be and opened iTunes.

He already knew that he didn't care for most of Matt's music but considered that he might be able to find something. He clicked on a random song near the top titled "Daylight" and after about thirty seconds decided that it might be hopeless.

But he could think of at least one song he liked that should be in Matt's music library. Unfortunately, he didn't remember what it was called or who it was by. Not that it really mattered; it wasn't like he had anything better to do, so he decided to go through the 4,000 and some songs Matt had, either until he found it or until Matt got up.

By the time he got to the artists that started with 'B,' he did find something that was tolerable even if it wasn't what he had been looking for. Part of Mello told him that he shouldn't like it, but he still found all the puns that whoever Bo Burnham was used in his songs funny. He actually listened to the few songs Matt had by this guy all the way through, not hearing that Matt had gotten up until the redhead was sliding into the kitchen in his socks. "Oedipus was the first motherfucker!" he sang with the song, eyes squinted shut, shaking both fists in the air. "Finally decided to give in and like my music?" he asked when he was done, though he didn't give Mello the chance to answer as Matt suddenly pulled him up from his seat and into a quick kiss.

"No, I was just bored," Mello said defensively when the kiss broke.

"I'm sure," Matt responded, sounding unconvinced. "So if you're so bored, what do you want to do today? I have the day off, so we can do whatever you want."

"Really?" Mello honestly hadn't expected this. Sure it was nice—he was happy that they were on good terms again—but it seemed too quick. They had only just gotten back together the day before and suddenly everything was okay again.

"Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?"

"No reason. Just wasn't expecting it, that's all," he shrugged. It's not like he _wanted_ them to fight, so he wouldn't bring it up.

"Alright… well, I'm gonna go get ready; you figure out what you want to do, okay?" he said, giving Mello a look that suggested he doubted him.

"Okay," Mello said, offering him a smile which he hoped would convince him. Matt nodded and kissed him once more before leaving the kitchen.

Mello sighed, stopping the music which was still playing. He couldn't shake the feeling that things were going _too_ well. They had made quite a bit of progress since everything had happened, but was it enough? Surely they would still have to work at the relationship before things were back to normal. _Stop it. Worrying about it isn't going to help. Just enjoy the day with Matt, and we'll figure out things when we need to._

He looked down at the computer screen, realizing he still hadn't found the song he was looking for. He would just have to ask Matt about it later.

He sighed and shut the computer off. He still couldn't believe how well the day before had went. Sure, the goal had in fact been to convince Matt that they should get back together, but now that they had, it seemed…a bit strange.

He hadn't really let himself think about it the day before, telling himself that he didn't have time to doubt what he was doing. But now he _was_ thinking about it, and now he _could_ recognize that he really hadn't expected his plan to work. It had been a shot in the dark, a last ditch effort, and somehow, it had worked.

He had been ecstatic last night when Matt had admitted that he still loved him, and he still was, in fact. Sitting there, thinking about the events of the previous night, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. He had to be in order for his plan to have worked.

But at the same time, it seemed _too_ lucky, too good to be true. The things in his life seemed to have a habit of not going his way, and considering that when they had technically gotten back together once before, Matt had gotten even angrier with him and decided that he needed to leave, could he really count on things being any more permanent this time? _But that was only because I told him about that girl at the Mafia hideout. I don't have anything else like that that I'm keeping from him, so it should be fine, right…? Goddammit, just stop thinking like this, Mello! I can think about this some __**other **__time when I don't have a free day with him._

He heard the shower turn off and the bathroom door open, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to think of something for them to do that day. The problem was he didn't have a clue of what there was to do in the area. The only places he even really knew of were the thrift store they had picked a few things up at, the grocery store, and Matt's work, and there wasn't much to do between those three places.

"So what are we doing today?" Matt asked, stepping into the kitchen. Mello looked up at him from his seat at the table which he had still not moved from to see that Matt basically looked ready to go save for his towel dried, though still very wet hair which had a few pieces sticking up in odd directions. He didn't know why Matt even bothered to own a comb; his hair was always messy. Not that Mello minded. He loved Matt's messy hair. "So?" the redhead repeated, opening the fridge and looking in.

"Well, I don't really…" he started, but then he had an idea, or at least he knew where he wanted to start. "Why don't we go to the book store?"

Matt looked over his shoulder at Mello with a confused look. "But I don't have to work today."

"Yeah, I know, but I'd still like to check it out. There are probably a lot of really cool, old books in there, plus there's nothing for me to do in the apartment when you're at work or asleep," Mello said, motioning to Matt's computer sitting on the table as if that proved his point.

"Fine," Matt returned with a sigh, grabbing the container of cream cheese out of the refrigerator and tossing it to the table before picking up the bag of bagels off of the counter. "Of all the things we could do, and you want to visit my work," Matt said with a small laugh, sitting down at the table.

Mello looked across the table at Matt, surprised. "There are other things to do around here?" he asked, only half joking.

"Of course. We could…uh…well…okay, so there isn't a whole lot to do around here. I guess I never really thought about it. I work most days, and until recently, any free time I had went to trying to find you," he shrugged. "We could rent a movie or something when you're done looking in the book store. We'd have to watch it on my laptop, but whatever."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," Mello said earnestly. After fighting for so long and then everything that happened as a result of his deciding to leave, doing something normal like watching a movie sounded perfect. "And," he started, hesitating, "I think I'll start looking for a job tomorrow."

Matt choked on his bagel slightly, recovering to ask, "Really? Where did that come from?"

"Well, you were right. I shouldn't have taken that money from the Mafia. I mean, they haven't found us yet, but the more chances we take, the more likely we'll get noticed. Plus it will give me something to do. So tomorrow, while you're at work, I'll start looking for a job to help with the rent and whatever else we need so we don't have to use the stolen money."

"So you're admitting I was right?"

"Really, out of everything I just said about the Mafia and stolen money, _that's_ what you got out of that?"

"I mean, _I_ knew I was right," Matt continued, ignoring what Mello had said, "But for you to admit that you were _wrong_, wow. What is this, like the third time _ever_ that you've admitted to being wrong?"

"Shut up," Mello returned playfully, "I can admit when I make mistakes."

"News to me," Matt said, looking at the remainder of his bagel and shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm sure. Just hurry up and finish so we can get out of here," Mello said with a slight chuckle.

Matt stuffed the last bit of bagel in his mouth before giving Mello the thumbs up sign. He got up, threw the remaining cream cheese and bagels into the refrigerator and onto the counter and ran out of the kitchen yelling "Be right back" behind him.

Mello watched the doorway between the kitchen and the living room where he had seen Matt disappear, a smile coming to his lips. Matt could be so weird sometimes; he hadn't noticed how much he had missed his sometimes silly antics until then.

He got up, taking the laptop back to its place in Matt's room—no, in _their_ room. It was nice to finally be able to think of it as _theirs_, and he honestly couldn't imagine anything happening to change that. He had been being ridiculous earlier that morning, he decided. Although it was unlikely that things would be perfect from then on out, he couldn't understand how he could ever think that things could go wrong just because it seemed too good to be true. Things were finally back to normal, to the way they were supposed to be.

"Okay, I'm ready," he heard Matt yell from the bathroom, quickly followed by him muttering "Shit" to himself and adding "In a minute. I'll be ready in a minute."

Laptop back in their room where it was supposed to be, Mello stuck his head in the bathroom, finding Matt staring down into the toilet with a disgusted look on his face. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"While we're out, I'm probably gonna want to pick up a new toothbrush from the store," Matt grumbled, taking his old toothbrush out of the toilet with a piece of toilet paper to throw in the garbage and washing his hands off.

"Sure," Mello said, trying not to laugh. He noticed Matt's less than happy expression in the mirror and decided that he would have to do something about that. Mello pulled Matt into a hug from behind, looking at their reflection in the mirror. "Let's go," he said, offering Matt a smile.

"Yeah, okay," Matt sighed, the smile he had worn earlier returning to his face. Mello kissed him on the cheek before releasing him from the hug, only to grab his hand and pull him towards the front door.

• • •

"So _this_ is the book store!" Matt said dramatically, pushing the door open and gesturing to the interior with a wide, sweeping motion of his hand.

"Um, yeah, actually I was here yesterday," Mello said with a small laugh. He loved seeing Matt in such a carefree, silly mood, and with the exception of his being less than happy about dropping his toothbrush in the toilet, Matt had retained it all day so far, including on the bus ride there.

Really, Mello liked that things were back to normal between them, but it seemed a bit off, like Matt was trying too hard. He couldn't quite place exactly one specific thing that made him feel this way, but it seemed as though Matt had put a lot of importance on their first day back together being perfect.

"Right, well, I'm giving you the grand tour," Matt said flatly before returning to the grandiose tone he was using for said 'tour.' "And this is where I spend most of my time," he continued, turning to the check-out counter which held the computer. "And this is also where someone is supposed to be working right now," he added, more or less talking to himself this time before turning to look around the store. Mello watched as the grin that that previously been on Matt's face slowly turned to a frown. "I'll be right back," Matt said, releasing Mello's hand and moving towards the back of the store, poking his head around bookshelves in search of whoever was supposed to be working before disappearing behind a shelve near the back of the store.

Mello stood there, looking around the small store, waiting for Matt to return. He was starting to get concerned when he didn't see Matt reappear within a couple minutes and was about to start looking for him, but then he heard a door being flung open and crashing into the wall behind it shortly followed by Matt's voice. "This may be difficult for you to understand, but the reason you were hired was so that we had another person to watch the store, not so you could stand out back and smoke while you text your friends."

Mello had to stifle a laugh—even though Matt had quit smoking quite awhile ago, it was weird to hear him scolding someone about it—but when Matt came into view, along with the guy he had been training the day before, he no longer found any humor in the situation. Matt looked furious, and the guy walking in after him, whose nametag read 'Ryan,' didn't appear too happy about being discovered slacking off.

"See, _this_ is where you're supposed to be," Matt continued, bringing his palm down on the counter, "Or at least _inside_ the store somewhere, doing something useful." Once Ryan had begrudgingly sat down at the counter, Matt turned back to Mello. "Let's just go," he said, walking past Mello to the door without waiting for an answer.

"Wait, Matt! Matt!" he called after him, following him out the door, "Matt, stop!" Having caught up with him, he placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. The redhead quickly spun around to face him at the contact.

"What, Mello?" he growled out.

"Matt, what's wrong?" he said levelly, though he was a bit taken aback by the way Matt had snapped at him. "I mean, what's _really_ wrong? Yeah, you're mad about that idiot slacking off, but it's more than that."

Matt sighed, lowering his gaze to his feet. "I don't know," he said eventually, sounding defeated. "I just…"

"Mattie, tell me," he said softly, trying to ignore the people passing by on the sidewalk. This hardly seemed the place to have such a conversation, but Mello would take it if Matt would open up about his odd behavior.

"I don't know… I came here looking for you," he started, finally raising his eyes to meet Mello's, "and for some reason, I had it in my head that things would end up working out somehow…but I had no money, and I had to get this job just to survive. Then when I finally did find you, there was no happy reunion like I had imagined. It just felt like everything I'd done had been for nothing, and then with everything that happened after that… It just made everything I'd worked for feel pointless. Now that things are finally okay between us—or at least I thought they were-"

"They are," Mello interrupted. "Things _are_ okay between us."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Matt said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "and I wanted today to be perfect for you so badly since we're finally back together and all, but I can't seem to make it work."

Mello shook his head. "Matt, that's your problem. Don't try. Things don't have to be perfect. I don't care; I just wanted to spend the day with you."

"So maybe thinking that things would be perfect was a bit naïve," Matt sighed, "but I shouldn't have freaked out like I did."

"It's okay, I'm sure you-"

"No, it's not okay. I realize I've been on edge a lot lately, and I'm sorry. Living here combined with…well, _everything_ has just been so stressful, and this'll probably sound weird, but working at the book store has really been the only constant thing for me, and I put so much into it that seeing that idiot not take it seriously just sort of…I don't know…"

"I get it," Mello said, suddenly quiet, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Mello looked at him, dumbfounded. "What do you mean? We are here because of me. If I wouldn't have left…"

"If you wouldn't have left, we'd still probably be fighting. Things are better now, right?"

"Yeah," Mello nodded, "They are."

"So…then no more trying so hard like you said. We'll just do whatever and spend the day together like you wanted."

"Sounds good," Mello said, taking hold of Matt's hand. He still felt responsible for all the unnecessary stress that had been placed on Matt's shoulders and the additional hardship that he had had to go through, and he doubted that he ever wouldn't, but there was no use in dwelling on it. It was more important to look to the future and work on their relationship than it was to beat himself up over something he couldn't take back.

Matt nodded and looked down the sidewalk. "Alright then…what should we do?"

"Well, I'd still kind of like to look through some of those books, if you don't mind going back in there," he said hesitantly before quickly adding, "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine. I'm okay now," Matt said, and Mello believed him. He seemed much more relaxed than he had in a long while, which Mello was glad to see and, without him realizing, it put him at ease as well.

"Let's go," he said, giving Matt's hand a gentle tug, not caring what exactly the future or even the rest of the day held for them; he was content to rebuild their relationship one moment at a time and was already just happy that they were again moving in the right direction.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So technically, this chapter was supposed to be written and posted over Thanksgiving break. Unfortunately, I spent my entire break sick and didn't feel like doing anything but sleeping. Three weeks later than I had planned for, here it finally is. Better late than never I suppose…

But there is exciting news regarding the rest of this story! It is finally Christmas break which means I'm actually going to have time to write which means…*dramatic pause* …no more late updates! See you guys next week when I actually post on time for once :D

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>TrickledFingers, VampirePrinssess, Midnightkisses10, mockingjay-lawliet-paramore, Chase Mihael Keehl, death2society, and an anonymous reviewer


	18. Chapter 17: Home

I'm Taking You With Me by Relient K

**Chapter 17: Home**

The bell above the door chimed, and Matt looked up to see Amy walking in. "You're here early," he said offhandedly; her shift wasn't supposed to start for another half an hour.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see how my favorite coworker was doing," she said with a large grin, "So…how are you?"

"Fine…?" he answered cautiously. Although Amy was friendly by nature, and stopping by early just to talk didn't seem all that unlikely, there was something in the way she was acting that screamed ulterior motive.

"Just 'fine'?" she asked, her elbows leaning on the counter, sipping the large frappuccino she had brought in with her.

"Okay, what is going on?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Amy, you may be a lot things, but subtle is not one of them."

"Oh no!" she gasped, "You're not in a bad mood, are you? Did something bad happen?"

"No! Calm down! I was actually in a pretty good mood until someone came in here and started asking all these weird questions." It wasn't that she was putting him in a bad mood exactly; he just wished she would tell him what she was trying to get at.

"'How are you?' is not a weird question."

"It is the way you ask it," he said flatly.

"Fine. Don't tell me what's going on," she pouted, feigning offense.

"I still don't even know what you're talking about," he said, shaking his head. He didn't understand why she was acting the way she was or what her real motive was, but as he thought about it, she had been acting weird the last time he'd seen her too. _When was that? I had yesterday off, and she wasn't working when Mello and I came in. The night before that, we got back together, and I saw her that morning when I came in for work…_

She let out a frustrated sigh before turning back to him. "How are things with you and Mello?" she asked pleasantly, as if only making conversation.

"You knew! How the hell did you know?" he exclaimed, everything finally clicking in his head. _That_ was why she had been acting so weird that morning, and _that_ was why she was asking about Mello now.

"Know what?" she asked nervously.

"Everything apparently. But the only time I ever even said anything about him was…that one day," he said, his hand going to his cheek, remembering the bruises that had covered the right side of his face, "so how could you know?"

"Well…I…Mello called me," she sighed, dropping the pretense.

"He called you?"

"Mm hmm."

"You talked to Mello, and you didn't think to tell me about it?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized, biting her lip, "but he told me not to."

"Of course he did," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"He said you'd try to stop him if you knew."

"Yeah… he was right. I would have." He couldn't help but smile; Mello knew him too well.

"So you're not mad then?" she asked cautiously.

"Mad? No. Apparently we wouldn't have gotten back together if not for you," he said, watching a smile spread across her face at his words. He really was sort of amazed at how things had turned out. He could remember thinking that Amy's bubbly personality was annoying the first time he met her, and now, not only would he consider her his friend, but evidently, the reason why he and Mello were on good terms once again.

"Really?" she asked, it coming out a bit of a screech, "So you're back together then?" He nodded, and he thought she might explode. Though her hands went to cover her mouth, the high pitched squeal she let out was still extremely audible as she hopped up and down.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked with a laugh. Her actions reminded him of something Linda and her friends had done years ago, back at Whammy's; he believed she had said it was called 'fangirling.'

She didn't answer, but did stop jumping up and down for a second to say "Matt! This is so exciting!" only to run around the counter and hug him. He had to grab hold of the edge of the counter to stop himself from falling off the stool he was sitting on. "We should go out and celebrate—the three of us! I want to meet him!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," he said, waiting for her to release him. He didn't know why she was so excited about this. "How much did Mello tell you?" he asked when he had finally gotten her to calmly sit down on a stool next to him.

"Well, he started with you guys moving to a big old house someplace in Japan," she started, but if she was going to say anything else, Matt didn't let her finish.

"Hokkaido? He started with Hokkaido? That was like…" he thought about it, "almost a year and a half ago."

"I told him I wouldn't tell him when your shift ended unless he convinced me he deserved you," she shrugged, looking quite proud of herself. "He must have thought it would help his case."

"So that 'cute story,'" he started, remembering her words that morning.

"Was you two," she finished for him. "You guys are adorable!" she said, her voice going up in pitch again, making him worry that she would start jumping up and down again, but she stayed sitting on the stool instead.

"Thanks…I guess…" She really did know _everything_, or at least, most everything as he doubted Mello had told her the bits about the Mafia; that wouldn't have done much to convince her. It would certainly explain why she was so invested in their getting back together.

"So tell me what happened! I wanna know what happened after Mello came to pick you up from work!" She looked at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to fill her in.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She already knew everything else, and considering he didn't know if he and Mello would have gotten back together if not for her, he supposed she deserved to know. He just hoped there wouldn't be any more 'fangirl fits.' "Fine," he said lightly and started his story, deciding he didn't really mind telling her.

• • •

"I'm," he started but stopped himself when he saw Mello asleep on the couch. "Home," he finished much more quietly and closed the door behind himself softly.

He was glad to see that Mello hadn't noticed that he was late, though he couldn't imagine that it would matter that much. Amy had insisted that he finish his story even after his shift had ended. He probably could have finished sooner had she not interrupted him with her exclamations of 'Aww!' and 'That's so cute!' but he didn't really mind. It was kind of nice for him to be able to share their story with someone especially when he had Amy's rapt attention.

Noticing the newspaper on the floor that must have fallen out of Mello's hand, which was dangling over the edge of the couch, he went to pick it up. It was opened to the classified section and had a couple of the job offers circled in red ink.

Although Mello had said that he was going to start looking for a job, it still surprised Matt to see that he actually was. He really wasn't sure why—if they weren't going to use any of the stolen money, they would be needing the extra income—but for whatever reason, seeing that Mello had started a job search came as a bit of a shock.

"Matt…?" he heard a rather groggy sounding Mello say behind him. He turned around to see Mello rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand, starting to sit up.

"Have a good nap?" he asked, folding the newspaper.

"Sort of," Mello said, massaging the back of his neck with a slightly pained expression. He patted the cushion next to him, signaling Matt to sit down. "When are we going home?" Mello asked when Matt had taken a seat on the couch.

"What do you mean?" Matt asked, confused, "I just got home."

"No, Mattie, I mean _home_. In Hokkaido. Unless you _want_ to stay here." He looked over at Mello who seemed perfectly serious. He hadn't expected him to bring up moving back so quickly.

He'd thought about it before on numerous occasions. Before he had found Mello it was 'I wonder how long it will take us to move back;' after he had had that first meeting with Mello it was 'We're really never going to see that house again;' and once Mello had moved in with him, it had changed to 'I don't know if I can ever go back with him.' Now that they were once again happy together, he wanted desperately to move back, but he was no longer so naïve to believe that it would be as simple as _just_ moving back.

"Of course I don't want to stay here, but we really don't have the money to move back," he said regretfully.

"Yeah, but I was thinking…if we used some of the money from-"

"Mello, I thought we agreed we weren't going to use it," he said, shaking his head, "It's too risky."

"They're not going to follow us to Japan. We can buy the plane tickets and be out of the country within 24 hours." He could hear the excitement in Mello's voice, but it did nothing to convince him.

"How do you know they wouldn't follow us? I'm sure it would be just as easy for them to buy tickets as it would for us. Mels, I _want_ to move back, but we can't right now. What if they did find us? I can't lose you again. Besides, as long as you're here with me, this is home."

Mello gave him a small half-smile and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"But why were you looking for a job if you thought we might move back?" Matt asked, looking down at the newspaper which he still held. It didn't make much sense; if Mello had been planning on moving, then there was no reason to get a job here.

"Because I figured you would say using that money was a bad idea," he said with a small laugh, "but I had to ask anyway, just in case."

"We'll move back eventually. I promise," he said before placing a soft kiss on Mello's lips. He would do whatever he had to in order to assure that they did move back, but there was one thing he wanted to do before they left California… But he would wait to bring it up to Mello. They had time, and besides, they had really only just gotten back together.

He was about to get up when he remembered something. "Oh! That reminds me! Do you want to get lunch or dinner or something with Amy? She wants to meet you." After telling her the events of the previous day, she had made him promise that she would get to meet Mello soon, jealous that the new guy got to meet him before she did.

"Uh, yeah, sure, that's fine. I'd like to thank her in person anyway for-" he said, but suddenly stopped and looked away. "Never mind," he added quietly.

"It's fine," Matt said, laughing at Mello's reaction, "Amy already told me about you calling."

"Oh," was all Mello said, looking embarrassed. "In that case, when are we supposed to be meeting her?"

"I don't know. She said to call her after I talked to you so we could set something up," he said, already pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

It only rang once before she picked up. "What did he say?" she demanded, sounding excited.

"How about 'Hi, Matt. It's nice of you to get back to me so quickly,'" he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, sure, but what did he say?"

"He said he'd love to meet you," Matt said, rolling his eyes. "You can calm down n-" he tried, but he had to pull the phone away from his ear when she let out a squeal which made Mello start laughing.

"When, when, when? How about today?" she asked.

"Today? Really?"

"Yeah! We can get dinner after my shift ends. So?" He looked to Mello who shrugged and then nodded, still trying not to laugh.

"Sure, I guess that'll work for us." He held the phone away from his ear again, anticipating another high pitched squeal, but one didn't come this time.

"Ooh, awesome! I know this great Japanese place. Do you like Japanese food? What am I saying, _of course_ you do. You _lived_ in Japan. I still can't believe you lived there!" she rambled.

"Okay, Japanese food. Sounds great. Where's the restaurant?"

She told him the location and when to meet her there. "I'm so excited!" she added.

"I can tell. Bye, Amy," he said before she started rambling again.

"Okay. Bye, Matt. See you then!"

He hung up with a sigh, hoping that there weren't any customers in the store while she was on the phone. "She's very excited," he said, turning to Mello.

"I can tell," he said with a laugh.

• • •

Matt stepped into the restaurant hesitantly, half expecting Amy to be at the door waiting for them.

"What are you doing?" Mello demanded when Matt stopped in the doorway.

"What? Oh, nothing," he said, continuing forth into the restaurant. He looked around for Amy whom he spotted almost instantly thanks to the fact that she was waving furiously at him.

"You must be Mello!" she said, standing up when they got to the table she was at.

"Nice to meet you," he said, holding his hand out for her to shake which she promptly disregarded and threw her arms around him in a hug.

"Nice to meet you too," Mello said slowly, looking over at Matt, clearly a bit taken aback.

"Yeah, she does that," Matt said, trying not to laugh at the blond's expression.

"Sit down, sit down," she said with a huge smile, letting go of Mello. "So how did you two meet?"

Matt exchanged a look with Mello who had obviously not been expecting Amy to be so forward. He, however, knew that they wouldn't be leaving until Amy had heard both of their life stories. To Matt's surprise, Mello actually turned back to her to answer. "Well…" he started but was interrupted by the ringing of Amy's phone. Matt was about to compliment her on her choice in ringtone when he felt Mello tense up next to him.

"Ugh, sorry, I have to take this," Amy said, clearly not very happy about it, and got up.

"Are you okay?" he asked Mello as soon as she was gone.

"It's that song, Matt! What is that song?"

"'Guilty Pleasure' by Cobra Starship," he said, giving Mello a look that questioned his sanity, "Why?"

"I've been trying to ask you since yesterday morning, but I kept forgetting."

"That's what you were doing? Trying to find that song?"

"Yeah, well, I was bored, and I figured I might as well give it a shot. I didn't have anything better to do," he shrugged.

"So it wasn't because you decided I have good taste in music?" Matt said, pretending to be disappointed.

"Sorry," Mello said shaking his head, "but you do have better taste in music than I thought."

"Really?" Matt asked, honestly surprised, "I've finally corrupted you then?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what happened," Mello said sarcastically, "_You_ corrupted _me_."

"I think that describes what happened perfectly," Matt responded jokingly.

"Mm hmm, right."

"Sorry about that," Amy said, reappearing and sitting back down at the table.

"No, no problem at all. Because of your awesome ringtone, I got Mello to admit that the music I listen to isn't absolutely awful which, believe it or not, is big step for him," Matt said, looking over at Mello with a satisfied grin.

"Don't get cocky. I didn't say your music was good—just better than I originally thought."

"It's a start," Matt said, taking hold of Mello's hand under the table.

"Aww." The sound came from Amy which Matt was starting to think might be an involuntary reaction as she looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry," she said quietly.

"It's fine," he heard Mello say and turned to look at him in surprise. He didn't know how he had expected Mello to act when he met Amy, but he hadn't thought that he would handle it so well. "Actually," he continued, "I really wanted to thank you for helping me out when I called. If you hadn't, I doubt this would be happening right now." And again Mello surprised him, proudly pulling his and Matt's hands, fingers laced together, above the table for her to see.

It was astonishing to Matt that, after all this time and all they had been through together, Mello still did things that could surprise him. He thought that maybe it was just that he'd forgotten how kind Mello could be since they hadn't actually been on good terms in so long, but quickly realized that that was only part of it.

He hadn't been able to see how much Mello had changed until then. It hadn't been so obvious while it had been happening, but looking back, he could see just how different the man sitting next to him was from the one he had originally moved into their home in Hokkaido with, and he liked what he saw.

The old Mello was selfish and conceited and had a hard time seeing what was truly important; the new Mello was kind and caring, and although he still may be a bit rough around the edges at times, Matt knew he would do anything for him. Somewhere in between the two, Matt had fallen in love with him, but in that moment, he loved Mello more than he ever had before.

He wanted desperately to be able to move back to the house in which they had fallen in love, but there was one thing he wanted to do before they left. Perhaps it was a bit early for him to be thinking of such things as they had really only just gotten back together, but that didn't matter to him. It didn't matter because, above all else, Matt knew that before they left California, he wanted to marry the man he loved.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I hope everyone had a nice Christmas or Hanukkah or whatever holiday you celebrate :)

Right, so this is a couple days late, but at least it's not a month late like my recent updates have been. I would have been able to post on time, but I decided to write a Christmas oneshot which kind of threw off my schedule a bit. Anyway, the oneshot is called "Wishlist" and you all should definitely go read it because it's really cute :3 *shameless advertising*

Just so everyone knows where this story is going, there will be four more chapters plus an epilogue, so we are in fact nearing the end. Once this story is complete, I will return to _Neon Hearts_. Okay, that's all. Please review guys! :D

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Chase Mihael Keehl, Melodramaticbox, VampirePrinssess, death2society


	19. Chapter 18: Panic

Sudden Movements by Billy Talent

**Chapter 18: Panic**

Something was wrong. Mello felt around the bed blindly before remembering that Matt had to work that morning. Of course he wouldn't still be in bed. He didn't think he would ever get used to Matt being up before him, then again, after only two days of it, it was hard to say.

Deciding he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyway, he sat up slowly and stretched. Although there was no clock in the room, the amount of sunlight peeking in around the curtains suggested that it was pretty late, or at least, pretty late by Mello's standards.

It felt weird for him, getting up so late, like he'd wasted part of his day. He didn't have anywhere to be, so he supposed it didn't really matter, but as he was hoping to have found a job within a week's time, he had wanted to have made a decent dent in his job search by the time Matt got home. Since he'd already wasted enough time with sleeping in, he grabbed Matt's laptop and brought it out to the kitchen table. He took the last bagel out of the bag on the counter and sat down, not bothering with cream cheese.

He noticed a small piece of paper on the table and picked it up, biting into the bagel. 'I can't remember if I told you I had to work this morning. Be home around two,' it read in Matt's scribbly handwriting. Mello snorted. Of course Matt couldn't remember; when he was distracted, he sometimes forgot to eat. He took another bite of the bagel and frowned. He'd have to convince Matt to buy chocolate chip next time.

As he waited for the laptop to turn on, his eyes wandered around the kitchen. Although it most certainly looked better after he had cleaned it, it was still probably the most unsatisfactory room in the apartment if only for the large, ugly hole in the wall where an oven was supposed to go.

He knew Matt was right—it was better if they stayed there until they could afford moving back without the help of the money he had stolen from the Mafia—but that didn't change the fact that he missed their home in Hokkaido. Though he knew Matt did as well. At the very least, he knew that Matt missed having an oven.

He thought it odd, considering that he had been so adamant about moving out as soon as possible when they had first starting living there. Now he wanted nothing more than to return.

Not that complaining would do anything to help their situation, which was why he was so adamant about finding a job. The sooner he got a job, the sooner he would start making money, and the sooner they would be able to move back to their rightful home. Until then, he was content in staying there with Matt even though he wasn't very fond of their apartment. At least it was _theirs_.

Once the computer was done running the start-up scripts, he opened an internet window and then hesitantly opened iTunes. Although there was no way he would admit to liking Matt's music in general, he had found that some of it wasn't absolutely terrible. Besides, filling out online applications would be less boring with music. He went directly to "Guilty Pleasure" by Cobra Starship, happy to have finally found out what it was called. He still thought it funny that he'd found out because of Amy's ringtone, but whatever worked, he supposed.

Although he had initially been a bit taken aback by how bubbly she was, by the time they were done with dinner, he had found that he actually really liked her. Plus, once she had gotten done fussing over 'how cute they were together,' she had calmed down…a bit.

Regardless, he was grateful to her, not only for helping him get Matt back, but for being a good friend to Matt while he hadn't been. With that part of their lives behind them, Mello could see himself becoming very good friends with Amy. In fact, she had invited them to a movie night at her apartment that weekend which, of course, they had agreed to.

It seemed like things would finally be settling back down to normal. Not that they'd ever had much 'normal' in their lives to begin with. Between growing up at Whammy's House and then everything they'd had to deal with because of the Kira Case, they hadn't had much room for it. It was something that Mello hadn't even really thought about before; doing whatever he had to in order to try to beat Near all the time, that had been his 'normal.'

After living a much quieter, much simpler life with Matt in Hokkaido, he couldn't understand why he had placed such importance on being number one. Sure, he still wouldn't mind putting that little albino twerp in his place, but it didn't seem to matter so much anymore. What mattered was his life with Matt; everything could just fall where it may.

Unfortunately, at the moment, that meant filling out applications. Having finished his breakfast and found some decent music to listen to, he was left with nothing else to do but get to work… although he still had to brush his teeth, and while he was in the bathroom, he might as well take a shower. So he stopped the music, put Matt's laptop in sleep mode, and headed for the bathroom.

He had to laugh at himself. He never used to procrastinate. At Whammy's, he'd always gotten things done right away, though he supposed that had had something to do with his desire to finally be able to beat Near; now that there was no such motivation, getting things done immediately didn't seem all that important. Or maybe Matt's procrastination had rubbed off on him. _But I really should at least fill out a couple applications… I'll just do it after my shower._

• • •

Mello looked at the clock and decided to call it quits for now as Matt would be home soon. He hit the send button and pushed away from the table, quite proud of himself. Once he had actually sat down and started the applications, he had been fairly productive.

He closed out of the windows he had open, leaving iTunes till last. He would never admit it to Matt, but over the past couple hours he'd spent listening to it, he'd actually started to like his music—not just tolerate, but actually _like_ it. He waited for the song to end before shutting the laptop down.

He got up, about to take the laptop back to the bedroom, when his stomach alerted him that he was hungry. He hadn't even realized that he'd worked through lunch. _Maybe Matt's habits really are rubbing off on me…_

He opened the refrigerator and looked in, pushing a few things around to see what his options were but stopped when he heard something he shouldn't have. He closed the fridge door and waited to see if he heard it again. It was definitely the sound of a phone ringing.

Between the two of them, the only phone they had was Matt's cell phone which should have been with Matt. Of course it wasn't completely out of the question that he'd forgotten it. _That's probably him calling from the pay phone at the bus stop to tell me he forgot his keys too and needs me to let him in or something._

He followed the ringing of the phone which took him to the bedroom and under the bed where he found the cell phone in the pocket of a pair of Matt's jeans. He quickly answered it but was surprised when the voice on the other end wasn't Matt's.

"Oh thank God!" came Amy's voice the second he answered, clearly very relieved, "I thought something happened to you! Why weren't you at the store today?"

"Amy?" he said, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"Mello? Where's Matt?"

"I thought he was at work…" he trailed off.

"He was supposed to be. He was supposed to open the store today, but when I got here, everything was still locked up. Have you talked to him this morning? Did he say anything weird?" she asked him and paused for him to respond, but he was having trouble getting the words out. "Mello?"

"Yeah, I did. Well, no not really. He left a note. It just said he was going to work and that he'd be home around two…" Something was wrong. Matt wouldn't just skip work, and if they had still been fighting, he might have thought that Matt had left him, but now it didn't even cross him mind as plausible. No, it had to be something else…

"Do you…" she started.

"What?" he demanded. Any information she might have would help.

"Do you think maybe something happened to him?" she asked, vocalizing his fear. By her tone, it sounded as if it was what she thought had happened. "I mean…it's not really the best area…"

"I…" He didn't want to say it; that would make it too real. He swallowed thickly and tried again. "Yeah… I think that might be what happened…"

"…What should we do?" she asked, and it sounded to Mello like she was crying, "Should we…should we call the police?"

He shook his head but realized she wouldn't be able to see him. "No, you have to wait 24 hours before you can file a missing person report. The police won't be able to do anything until then."

"We can't just sit here!"

"I…I don't know what else to do." It felt like his chest was being constricted. He couldn't breathe right.

"Mello…are you alright?" she asked gently, evidently hearing something in his voice that suggested otherwise. He didn't know how to answer her question. "Mello?"

"No…no, I'm not," he said, feeling as tears started to escape his eyes. One landed on the bed. He hand went to brush over it. This had been the last place he'd seen Matt. His knees felt weak.

"Do you want me to come stay with you?" she offered.

"No, I…I'll call you if I hear anything from him, okay?"

"Alright… And don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

"Right, uh, of course. Bye," he breathed out and hit the 'end call' button, not waiting to hear her farewell.

He looked down at the cell phone in his hands, not sure what to do. He knew what had happened, or at least, he thought he knew.

The entire time, ever since he had seen the stolen money, Matt had been telling him that it was too risky, that the Mafia would try to find them, and now it seemed they had.

Mello had never expected them to take Matt; if they were to punish someone, he had figured it would have been him. After all, he had been the one who had gone AWOL and the one to take the money, not Matt. This had nothing to do with Matt.

But now it seemed they were punishing him for Mello's mistakes, using Matt to get to him, and he couldn't take it. His knees finally gave out, and he fell to the floor, kneeling next to the bed. _I did this. Mattie's gone because of me… He could be dead because of me…_

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. _No, that's not how they work. They wouldn't have taken him if they didn't want something, and they need a live hostage to get what they want. He has to still be alive. He has to…_

He brought his fist down on the edge of the bed. He hated them for taking his Matt. After everything he had done to try to make things work between them, after having finally gotten back together, how could it all be gone so easily?

He let his head fall to rest on the edge of the bed, feeling an overwhelming defeat. It was his fault that Matt was in this situation. _No! I can't think like that. He's alive, and I have to stay strong for him. If they do have him, they'll find a way to contact me. If I'm wrong, and it's not them and something else happened…there's nothing I can do anyway._

He crawled up onto the bed and did the only thing he really could do: he waited.

• • •

Hearing the phone ring, Mello sat up with a jolt, snatching it up from the bed. He only glanced at the name that appeared on the screen, but it made him hesitate. It told him that 'Mello' was calling.

"Hello?" he all but demanded, clutching the phone to his ear, heart beating frantically in his chest. He didn't know who could have his phone as the last time he remembered having it was in Hokkaido, but hoped against hope that whoever it was would have information about where Matt was. Unfortunately, they did.

"Hello, _boss_," came the sickening voice of his former right hand man. "We, uh, have your little boyfriend here. I'm sure you know why."

He felt the blood freeze in his veins at those words, his worst fear being realized. It wasn't just a speculation anymore; it was a reality—a terrible reality that Matt was having to endure at that very moment because of his mistakes. He didn't particularly care how the Mafia had gotten his cell phone or why they had taken Matt instead of him, what mattered was that he found a way to get Matt out of there alive, so he quickly composed himself. "How do I know he's still alive? Let me talk to him," he commanded.

"Sorry, but you don't get to call the shots anymore," the man said, sounding as if he took great pleasure in saying it. "Why don't you bring me the money you took, and then we can negotiate his release, how does that sound?"

Anger boiled in Mello's chest. He was only toying with him; having ordered the capture of a hostage himself what seemed like a lifetime ago, he knew how it worked. "I'm not giving you anything until I know he's alive. Now hand him the fucking phone!"

He heard the man let out a low laugh before responding. "Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say," he said, mocking him, before Mello heard him say "Talk faggot!" sounding farther away, not speaking into the phone.

"Mello? Mello!" he heard Matt say and felt tears well up in his eyes. "Don't do anything they say! They'll kill you. They'll-" But Matt didn't get to finish.

"That's enough," the man growled out, but Matt didn't take heed.

"Mello, I'm sorry!" Matt called to him, and Mello couldn't hold back the tears that had begun to form in his eyes anymore. Matt had nothing to be sorry for; this was his fault.

"I said that's enough!" And Mello jumped when he heard a smack. "Alright, you know he's alive," the man said to him, "You bring me the money you took plus an extra hundred grand and you get your pretty little play thing back. If you don't, I'll slit his throat right now and find you later. So which will it be?"

Mello felt panic wash over him. They didn't have an extra hundred, let alone an extra hundred thousand, but if he didn't agree to the terms, he and Matt would both end up dead. "When and where do you want it?"

"Think you can remember where our old hideout was, you know, the one you snuck out of like the spineless coward you are?"

"Yeah," he answered flatly. He'd show them just how 'spineless' he was.

"Great. Then how 'bout there in an hour? And we'll know if you tell the police. If you do, I'll take it that you changed you mind and wanted option number two. Don't be late." He hung up then, and Mello threw the phone away from him.

He got up, pacing the room. He didn't have a clue as to how they could get out of this, but he had to think of something within the hour.

He wished he would have brought a gun with him when he'd escaped from the Mafia hideout, but at the time, he hadn't wanted to take it with him, not wishing to hold onto the extra reminder of his mistake and the criminal life it had brought him back to.

But without a gun, what could he do? All he had was a computer and Matt's cell phone, and neither of them would be much use. He could bring a knife, but he couldn't imagine it would be very helpful against the guns that he was certain every single person at the Mafia hideout would have.

He stopped pacing upon reaching the wall this time, taking his frustration out on it. His efforts left a small dent in the wall and two of the knuckles on his right hand bleeding but brought him no closer to a solution. "Think, Mello, think!" he said, this time his head hitting the abused wall.

He'd only just gotten off the phone and already he was starting to feel pressed for time. An hour wasn't long enough for him to get together any real rescue plan. He was starting to panic, which he was sure was what they were counting on; if he panicked, he'd make hasty decisions that would only end up giving the Mafia the upper hand.

He tried to calm down and think logically about the situation, his forehead still resting against the wall. _I have a computer and a cell phone. What can that get me in an hour?_

His head snapped up abruptly. He ran back to the bed, snatching Matt's phone from where it sat. His hand shook slightly as he tried to scroll through Matt's contacts, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the trauma he'd submitted it to or if it was because both his and Matt's lives were riding on a half-baked plan that would be useless if the cell phone didn't contain the right information.

He stopped suddenly, seeing what he was looking for. It was a long shot, but it just might work.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Ahhh, cliffhanger! I'll apologize ahead of time because the next chapter ends rather inconclusively as well. By the way, Happy New Year! Sorry I had to start the year off with a less than happy chapter.

But the good news is this story has hit 100 reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! I love all my readers; the success of my stories would not be possible without you :)

So I know I didn't give you much to go on in this chapter, but what do you think Mello is planning? I'm really interested to see what you guys guess because my beta said she had no clue. Anyway, please review, please tell me what you think will happen, and please have a good week everyone!

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Chase Mihael Keehl, foreverunloved, death2society, RavenBlackRoses, mockingjay-lawliet-paramore, TrickledFingers, VampirePrinssess, cassandra7119


	20. Chapter 19: Perseverance

What Makes a Man? by City and Colour

**Chapter 19: Perseverance**

The first thing Matt noticed when he woke up was the pain. His entire body felt bruised like he's been ran over by a truck and then tossed down a flight of stairs for good measure. His arms were cramped from being tightly bound behind his back, the rope rubbing his wrists raw, and his head was throbbing. He couldn't be sure in the half-conscious state he was in, but he thought his head might be bleeding as it felt like there was a wet, sticky warmth matting his hair to his forehead.

He looked around the dimly lit room from his position lying on his side on the cold, hard cement floor, trying to remember what had happened. He was having a difficult time focusing as his vision blurred in and out. It took him a minute to realize where he was, or at least, to figure out what this place must be.

He didn't see anything else in the dark and dingy room, let alone something he might be able to use to escape.

He tried to get his feet under himself so that he could sit up, but his feet, which had evidently fallen asleep, slipped and his head hit back down hard against the concrete with a sickening crack. He winced at the additional pain it caused, breathing heavily as he tried not to lose consciousness again.

"Hey, boss!" he heard someone say behind him. His effort to sit up must have caught the man's attention. "Com'ere! He's up!"

Matt tried to prepare himself for whatever the 'boss' had planned for him, but it was all he could do to just tolerate the pain which seemed to be intensified by the tingling in his feet and legs which he found to be bound as well.

What had happened and how he had gotten there was slowly coming back to him. He'd been on his way to the bus stop when he'd realized that he'd forgotten his cell phone. Just as he had turned around to go get it, three very large, muscular men had seemingly come out of nowhere.

He had known why they were taking him the second they had appeared, but that didn't mean he would simply accept his fate. He had done everything he could to fight back, but being only half their size, he had never stood a chance.

They had dragged him into the alleyway where their truck was hidden, taking his continuous efforts to escape as an invitation to punish him. Had he not tried to fight back, he probably would have had received many less injuries, but that was never an option; he had to—for Mello.

It was worth it, even though the only thing he had actually managed to do was bite one of the guy's arms, even though that one action had led to the man beating him until he was unconscious. That was the last thing he remembered before waking up on the cold floor in this dark, dank room.

Matt tried to get up again, wanting to be able to face whoever was coming into the room so that he would at least have some warning if he was about to be 'punished' again. He tried a different tactic, but as he attempted to pull his torso upward with his stomach muscles, he felt a searing pain in his side and dropped back down to the ground with a short scream that he tried to cut off, gritting his teeth. It felt like one of his ribs might be broken.

He heard the man laugh at his failed attempt, but he could barely acknowledge it. His vision swam, and parts of it started to black out from the pain, but he fought to stay awake, blinking furiously to try to clear his sight.

He felt helpless and broken, lying there in a crumpled heap on the floor. He couldn't even sit up on his own. His body was useless. But worse above all else, he had let Mello down. He slowly allowed his eyes close, giving up.

"I thought you said he was awake!" Matt heard a deep voice growl out, presuming it was whoever was in charge here. He didn't care. They could do whatever they wanted with him.

"H-he was, boss." A small smile found its way to Matt's lips at the fear he heard in those words.

"He doesn't look awake now! Next time I tell you to bring me a hostage, I want him alive! A dead hostage ain't worth anything to us, you fucking understand me?" the boss yelled at his subordinate, the sound of him cocking his gun added for emphasis.

Matt wished he'd been able to turn around if only to be able to see the underling's face as he almost whimpered out a response of "Y-yeah, boss. I understand."

Matt heard the heavy footfalls of the Mafia boss approach him, but still refused to give any indication that he was alive; he wasn't going to do anything to help them.

Suddenly, the man grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him up to look him in the eye. Matt stared back with determination. "Good, you're alive," the man said to him, a wide malicious grin exposing his slightly yellowed teeth, "We can use you then." With this, Matt spat in his face; they wouldn't be using him for anything if he could help it.

The man chuckled darkly at this, wiping the blood and saliva from his face with the back of his free hand. "Either you're extremely brave," the man started with a sneer, "or extremely stupid," he finished, grabbing his gun and hitting Matt across the face with the butt of it before letting him fall to his knees.

Matt gritted his teeth, trying not to show any weakness. He took a deep breath in an attempt to recover, but was rewarded by another sharp pain in his side; if his rib wasn't broken, it had to be at least cracked. He tried desperately to ignore it, taking shallow breaths so that his lungs didn't push out on it as much.

Once he had regained some control, he licked his lips, trying to decide how to handle the situation, tasting blood as his tongue ran over a large split in his lower lip. He spat the blood out on the floor, noticing the surprisingly large pool of red where his head had been laying. No wonder he was having such a hard time staying conscious; he'd lost a lot of blood.

"You will help me whether you want to or not," the man said as he wiped the blood off his gun on the dark denim of his jeans, his voice having gone dangerously quiet. "Now, I'm normally a patient man," he continued, grabbing Matt's jaw and forcing him to look him in the eyes, "but your little nap wasted a lot of my time. I'm going to call the blond bastard you consider your boyfriend and-" But he stopped suddenly, looking at Matt with what might be considered glee, but it was a sick, twisted form of it, and Matt quickly realized why. His face, however bruised and bloody it might be, had betrayed his surprise. "Oh, yes, we know all about _that_. Did you think it would be so easy for him to leave us? We've been following you two since he left."

"Why me?" Matt managed to choke out despite the man's hand pressed against his throat. He was glad that they had taken him instead of Mello, but it didn't make sense to him. Why not just kill Mello and be done with it?

"Because this is more fun," he said, that corrupted joy returning to his face. "We take you, I get to see Mello fail. Because he won't be able to save you. You're dead. You both are. Two birds, one stone."

He released Matt to dig something out of his pocket, pulling out Mello's cell phone. Matt looked at it in surprise; Mello had told him that he thought he'd left it in Hokkaido.

"I'm leaning towards stupid over brave," the man said, pulling Matt's attention away from the phone. "You really think we _wouldn't_ search through his shit? We never trusted him. The only reason we ever let him in was because most everyone was afraid of him. We gave him an _honorary_ position and called him 'boss' to keep him happy. I was in charge the entire time. Turned out not to matter though; he was nothing compared to the legend. Just another weak, spineless coward."

"He's a better man than you will ever be," Matt shot back, but quickly flinched away, awaiting the blow he was sure to receive. It never came though. Instead, the man let out a low, rumbling laugh.

"We'll see about that." Matt cautiously looked back over to see him sneering down at him. "So here's the plan, Matt," he said, getting down on his knees so that he was at eye level, clapping him on the shoulder as if they were old friends. "You don't mind if I call you Matt, do you? Or do you prefer Mail? Mail Jeevas, I think it was."

Matt's stomach lurched at his words. They really did know everything. How they had found out so much, he had no idea, but it didn't matter. His name didn't matter in the situation he was in; the man was only trying to get to him, and although it was working, he refused to show it. "Matt is fine," he said, trying to keep his voice level, looking straight into his captor's eyes.

"Alright, _Matt_, why don't we give Mihael a call and-" But suddenly Matt had an idea. He couldn't do anything tied up as he was, but he might be able to talk the man out of calling Mello.

"Wait!" he burst out, and the man looked at him with interest, pausing with his thumb over the call button. "Uh, how are you gonna call him if you have his phone?" he tried, feeling as though it was a fairly good argument. After all, he doubted the Mafia knew that he had left his phone in the apartment.

"My men have been following you since Mello left, remember? Do you really think we wouldn't have noticed? You had your cell phone when you went into the apartment building last night, but not when you left this morning. And because you or Mello didn't go anywhere between the time you got in last night and the time you left today, I'm thinking it's still in the apartment, which means all I need to have Mello do is find it," he explained as if Matt were a small child, finishing by pressing the call button.

Matt's gaze fell back down. That was his only plan, and it had turned out to be useless. His only hope was that Mello would not answer.

He hated himself; they were both going to end up dead all because he had forgotten his cell phone. _Or maybe I should have taken Mello seriously when he said we could just used the money and get out of the country. They would have still probably followed us, but it might have worked…_

"Hello, _boss_," the man breathed out, speaking into the phone after what Matt could only assume had been one ring. "We, uh, have your little boyfriend here. I'm sure you know why."

Although Matt was too far away to even hope that he might catch a few of Mello's words, he listened to the end of the conversation he could hear intently, hoping to be able to infer what was being said on the other end of the call.

"Sorry, but you don't get to call the shots anymore," the man said with a sneer. He seemed to take great pleasure in these words, a certain glint in his cold eyes. "Why don't you bring me the money you took, and then we can negotiate his release, how does that sound?"

Matt's heart twisted in his chest. There would be no release; he knew that. The promise of his release was only a lie to get Mello to come there so they could kill him too. He hoped briefly that Mello might put together some plan to get them both out of this, but he doubted it. Any hope that he'd had earlier was quickly draining away; he saw no way out.

He was brought back to reality by the sound of the man's low, rumbling laugh. "Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say," he said into the phone before turning to Matt, holding the phone up to his ear. "Talk faggot!" he spat out.

"Mello? Mello!" he said, hearing the fear in his own voice. This was the only chance he would have to warn him. "Don't do anything they say! They'll kill you. They'll-" But Matt didn't get to finish.

"That's enough," the man growled out, pulling the phone away, but Matt didn't take heed. This could be the last time he ever got to talk to Mello, and he had one more thing to say.

"Mello, I'm sorry!" Matt called to him, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

"I said that's enough!" the man roared out, drawing his fist back and plowing it into the side of Matt's head. He fell to the floor again but made no effort to get up this time. He saw no reason to.

He laid there, cheek pressed to the cold cement, crying silently. It wasn't from the pain—he didn't care about the pain anymore—it was that he knew Mello wouldn't listen to his warning. He knew because if their positions were reversed, he wouldn't leave Mello as a captive of the Mafia either, even if he knew by doing so, he was sealing his own death.

"Alright, you know he's alive," the man continued into the phone, "You bring me the money you took plus an extra hundred grand and you get your pretty little play thing back. If you don't, I'll slit his throat right now and find you later. So which will it be?"

Matt felt numb. He didn't care much if he died; he just couldn't stand the thought of Mello giving his life for him, and that's exactly what he knew would happen. They had nowhere near an extra hundred thousand, but that wouldn't stop Mello from agreeing to it.

"Think you can remember where our old hideout was, you know, the one you snuck out of like the spineless coward you are?" he heard the man say, but the words barely registered. Surely anything he said wouldn't matter. Things were already set, and there was nothing that could change them.

The man paused, evidently listening to Mello's answer. "Great. Then how 'bout there in an hour? And we'll know if you tell the police. If you do, I'll take it that you changed you mind and wanted option number two. Don't be late." He hung up then, and pocketed the phone before returning to Matt. "Hear that? Your precious boyfriend is going to be here in an hour. You should be happy," he said, kicking Matt hard when he gave no sign of hearing him. He flinched when the man's boot collided with his side, jostling his already damaged rib but otherwise paid him no attention. "Useless faggot," he man mumbled, giving up and walking away. He said something to his subordinate, who was supposed to be guarding the room, but Matt didn't hear what it was, nor did he care.

He laid there, tears blurring his vision, waiting, hoping that the end of the hour would never come.

• • •

He'd spent the hour wavering between conscious and unconscious, so he wasn't at all sure how much time had passed when a loud crashing sound caught his attention. He started to adjust his position so he could see the door and the guard that would undoubtedly be nearby, trying to do so without putting too much stress on his existing injuries.

Finally having managed to turn himself around, he watched the guard intently who was looking out the door in the direction the sound had come from. A lump rose in the back of his throat as he decided that the commotion must have had to do with Mello's entrance; it was the only explanation he could think of.

He looked away from the door as if it would change this fact, trying to think of anything else that might distract him. The only thing he could think of though was how he had wanted to propose to Mello. It didn't seem like that would be happening now. After everything they had been through, it had turned out that none of it mattered, not if they died today.

_No, it mattered… It has to matter…_

He looked back towards the door, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wasn't going to cry, and he wasn't going to give in to them. If he was going to die either way, he might as well die with bravery and defiance.

He waited, knowing that they would either come get him or bring Mello to him, but he didn't have to wait long. Only about a minute later, someone came in and wordlessly undid the ties that bound his ankles. Seeing the cigarette between the man's lips, he considered asking for one—after all, he doubted he'd be alive for even another half an hour, so it shouldn't matter if he smoked one last cigarette—but as the man yanked him to his feet, he decided against it. He presumed he was about to go see Mello, and he didn't want him to see him smoking; it would be like saying he'd given up.

"Move," the man commanded, jabbing his gun between Matt's shoulders. He walked calmly out of the room and down the corridor, being held at gunpoint the entire way.

The second he was brought into what he assumed to be the main room of the hideout, he looked around for Mello, quickly spotting the blond near the center of the room, hands tied behind his back, a rather unimpressively short man with greasy black hair holding the barrel of a gun to his temple.

"See? He's alive," the Mafia boss said to Mello, a smirk on his face, "Too bad that doesn't change the fact that you don't have all the money I asked for." He nodded in Matt's direction, and he felt another hard jab between his shoulder blades, telling him to keep moving.

The look of shock that had been on Mello's face when he'd first seen Matt slowly turned to an apologetic smile. Matt returned the smile as he was brought to stand next to Mello. "Hey," he said as if the entire situation was of little consequence.

"Yeah," Mello nodded with a small laugh, his grin widening slightly, "Hey."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yes, I know. I'm a terrible person D'X

Seriously though, this chapter was really very difficult to write if only because it was so depressing. I'm sorry about the subject matter. That's all.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>VampirePrinssess, Dooseob, RavenBlackRoses, TrickledFingers, Chase Mihael Keehl, shorelinekeehl, Midnightkisses10, mockingjay-lawliet-paramore


	21. Chapter 20: Penance

All to Myself by Marianas Trench

**Chapter 20: Penance**

Mello felt surprisingly calm walking towards the Mafia hideout, duffle bag full of the stolen money in hand. He knew he shouldn't be; his plan was by no means foolproof and depended a lot on him stalling until backup arrived. One wrong move, and he and Matt would both be dead, so he should have been anything but calm.

He should have been nervous, apprehensive, anxious, but instead, as his feet shuffled though the overgrown weeds surrounding the dismal concrete building, he felt strangely peaceful if not apathetic.

He looked up at one of the security cameras and nodded, knowing that they were watching, waiting for him. If he were to just barge into the building on his own, it could be perceived as a threat as they had no way of knowing if he had any weapons on him, and that wasn't part of the plan. If possible, he wanted them to view him as completely harmless, even helpless. Hopefully it would give them a false sense of control.

Mello stood there, waiting for them to come out and get him, a bit surprised that there hadn't been someone out there already. He knew what he had to do; he was ready.

He was ready to fight for Matt, to get him back, to save him from the position he didn't deserve to be in. He would do whatever he had to in order to make sure they both made it out alive, including getting captured himself.

He heard a rustling in the weeds and turned to see two men coming around the corner. The first thing he noticed was the guns in their hands. They weren't aimed at him, but rather, held loosely at their owner's sides, a sign of overconfidence. For all they knew, Mello could have a gun on him; they should have been at the ready, prepared to shoot.

"Hand over the bag," one of them said, finally raising his gun, holding it sideways, and cocking it slowly.

"Not until I see Matt," he said, hiding a smile. They were trying to be intimidating, but it wasn't working. Holding the gun sideways was a scare tactic—he knew that all too well, having done so occasionally the first time he'd been with the Mafia—but it degraded the accuracy. This guy either wasn't planning on actually shooting or was an idiot for thinking it was a good way to fire a gun. Not that accuracy would be a huge concern at point blank range.

The man pointing the gun at him shook his head. "The boss—the _real_ boss," he added with a sneer, "said to get the money from ya first." He motioned to the other man in Mello's direction.

Mello pretended to fight back when the man tied his arms behind his back and forcefully took the duffle bag from him. He couldn't just hand it over and be taken willingly—that would be too obvious—but the money was of little consequence, and his capture actually put him in a better position. "What happened to our deal?" Mello demanded angrily as he was taken into the hideout.

"You'll have to bring that up with the boss." The second he was in the building, all eyes were on him. It seemed that all the higher ranked members had gathered in the main room to witness what they probably thought would be his death. "Here he is, boss," the man holding the gun to the back of his head said, pushing him into the center of the room. The other man dropped the duffle bag at the boss's feet and immediately backed down, clearly at the lower end of the hierarchy.

"This is it?" the boss said, tapping the bag with his foot as if discerning how much it held. "I thought we'd agreed on more," he said, giving Mello a fake look of disappointment.

"Let me see Matt," he said firmly, though let his brave countenance waver, adding in a brief look of fear; he was quite proud of how his performance was going so far.

The boss let out an amused snort, slowly closing the gap between them. "You're not in a position to be making demands," he said with a sickening grin, pulling his gun out and bringing it to Mello's temple.

Mello's heart leapt into his throat, and for a second, he was actually afraid that he might be killed, but then the man hit him across the head, throwing him into the small wooden table nearby. The table buckled under his weight, legs breaking off as it collapsed to the ground with Mello, the bottle of gin that had sat on it shattering as it hit the floor.

"Rodney," the Mafia boss said, and a rather short man with greasy black hair stepped forward to yank Mello to his feet, holding a gun to his head. "Tell me, Mello. Why shouldn't I kill you right now?" the boss said, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"How do you know all the money isn't in there? You didn't even look in it." He hoped this would buy him some time, that maybe they would actually take the time to count it. Of course, they would end up finding that it wasn't nearly what they had asked for, but hopefully by the time they were done, it wouldn't matter anymore. Unfortunately, the boss didn't seem interested.

He bent down and unzipped the duffle bag to peer inside for little more than a second before closing it again. "It's not all there," he said, straightening back up, "Anything else?"

Mello looked down at his feet in defeat, not quite sure if he was acting anymore. "Just let me see that Matt's alive," he said weakly. "…Please," he added, bringing his eyes back up to meet those of the man who was responsible for his and Matt's capture.

"You're right," the boss said, a malicious grin spreading across his face, "he should be here to see you die." He turned to a man standing near the door with a cigarette between his lips. "Go get him."

Mello watched as he disappeared around the corner, trying to think of something that would keep them alive longer. He wasn't sure how long he had been there so far, but with how time was crawling by, it felt like an eternity; surely his backup should have been there by then.

"So, Mello," the boss started conversationally, "what made you think you could escape us? You know that's not how it works. Once you're in, you're in until you die, which is why we have to kill you."

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to respond to that, so he didn't. Quite simply, he didn't feel like it. He didn't feel like explaining that joining the Mafia again had been a mistake or that he had known there was a good chance something like this would happen or that he would do anything to protect Matt from his mistake, throwing himself back in the path of danger included. That was the only reason he was there: to protect Matt.

"See? He's alive," the Mafia boss said to Mello, a smirk on his face, "Too bad that doesn't change the fact that you don't have all the money I asked for." Mello looked over in the direction that he'd seen the man with the cigarette disappear in. He was back, this time holding Matt at gunpoint.

He was shocked by Matt's haggard appearance. Just last night, he had looked perfectly healthy, the bruises and cuts from his first encounter with the Mafia having healed nicely. Now, he looked near death.

His hair was matted and his bangs crusted to his forehead with dried blood. He had a pair of black eyes, the discoloration extending down his cheek on his left side, and as he walked closer to Mello, it could be seen that a splotch of red stained the white of his left eye next to the iris. The exposed skin of his neck and arms was either marred with large black and blue marks or covered in dried blood; the small areas which held neither stood out a stark white, unnaturally pale. The only spot which still held fresh blood though was the large split in his lower lip.

Mello tried his best to wipe the look of shock from his face, replacing it with an apologetic smile. He hated that this was what had been brought upon Matt because of his mistake, and although Matt might argue otherwise once they got out of this—if they got out of this—Mello knew the entire situation was ultimately his fault.

Matt returned the smile as he was brought to stand next to Mello, causing the wet blood on his lip to glisten slightly in the low lighting. "Hey," he said as if the entire situation was of little consequence.

"Yeah," Mello nodded with a small laugh, his grin widening slightly, "Hey." Matt was being entirely too nonchalant about the position they were in, and it put him at ease, gave him a bit more confidence that things might turn out all right.

"So," the boss said loudly, bringing Mello's attention back to him. "I'm thinking I should kill him first," he said to Mello, nodding in Matt's direction, "He's already been through a lot as you can see. It's best to just put him out of his misery—and you probably thought I had no compassion," he added with a demented grin. "Besides, you deserve to see him die. He's only guilty by association; you're the one that deserves to be tortured." He held the gun up, pointing it straight at Matt. "Any last words?"

"I-I…" he heard Matt stutter and immediately went to grab his hand, hoping to comfort him, but quickly discovered that his wrists were still tied together behind his back, making it impossible.

He looked over at Matt whose green eyes stared back, filled with nothing short of terror. Mello offered him a small smile and nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I'm starting to get impatient," the boss said just as Matt opened his mouth to say something.

Matt glanced over at his captor and then back at Mello, a new strength in his eyes. "Will you marry me?"

Mello could only gape at Matt as the Mafia boss burst out laughing, the rest of the men in the room quickly following suit. Of all the things Matt could have said to him, Mello would have never expected a marriage proposal.

Matt had never even so much as brought up marriage before, so Mello could only conclude that he was proposing only because he thought they were going to die, and he wouldn't have another chance. "Matt…" he said, shaking his head slowly, a pained expression on his face. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry him, he just couldn't accept, not under the given conditions, not when he was sure it had been brought on by panic. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Matt—that wasn't the issue. Had Matt asked him the night before, he wouldn't have hesitated to say 'yes,' but this was different. "I love you, but I can't… not like this," he said quietly. He saw how his words hurt Matt, but this wasn't the right way to do it, not if Matt felt that he had to.

"Damn," he heard the Mafia boss say but kept his eyes on Matt, "He's about to die, and you won't even fucking humor him? You really are a heartless bastard. I should've given you more credit."

"Wait!" Mello called out when he heard the gun cock. He turned to face him, hesitating momentarily when he noticed something he had not expected: Holly, the girl he had almost made the mistake of sleeping with, was peeking around a doorway almost directly behind the Mafia boss. "Uh…" he started, trying to ignore her. He felt bad for her as she had obviously not found a way out of this miserable life, but now wasn't the time. "Why does Matt have to die? He didn't do anything wrong. You can kill me or torture me or whatever you want, just let him go."

He sighed in return. "I thought we already went over this. Guilty by association. Besides, he knows too much. Can't have him running off and telling the cops, can we? Now say goodbye," he said, aiming the gun straight at Matt's heart.

"Bye," Matt whispered too him, squinting his eyes shut, bracing himself.

"Matt, don't-" but he didn't get to finish. He heard a scream and a gunshot, and Matt collapsed to the floor. "Matt!" he screeched out, dropping to his knees. With his hands still tied behind his back, he couldn't check for a pulse, but if he'd been shot in the heart, there was no hope. He tried to turn him over with his elbows to see if the bullet had hit its target, but looked away from him when he heard the Mafia boss let out a yell in anger.

He turned to see Holly being thrown to the ground. The scream before the gun was fired must have been hers as she'd flung herself at the boss. Her petite figure had been no match for his strength, and she was quickly deposited on the floor. She scooted away from him in fear, a hand pulling at her short skirt which had flown up, exposing her lace panties.

"Stupid cunt!" he roared, this time pointing the gun at her. Mello looked away, not sure that he could watch as someone else was killed because of him, but as he did so, he saw someone appear out of the corner of his eye.

"Boss, we're surrounded!"

Mello threw himself over Matt, shielding his motionless body as chaos unfolded around them. He had failed.

• • •

Mello felt numb, sitting there in the back of the ambulance. The police raid had passed by in a blur, the entire time believing Matt was dead. It wasn't until after the members of the Mafia had been arrested that someone had tended to him and Matt.

He'd refused to move from his position over Matt's seemingly lifeless body, and had his hands not still been tied behind his back, he would have fought against the police officer who'd had to pull him away. He was certain they had bigger things to worry about, so why couldn't they just leave him there? Another officer had been called over to check Matt since the first one had been preoccupied holding Mello back.

When it had been discovered that Matt had only been shot in the shoulder and had been knocked unconscious when his head hit the floor, Mello had started crying hysterically. Although Matt was certainly in bad shape, he would live.

They'd sent Matt away in an ambulance immediately, and despite Mello's protests, they wouldn't let him go with him, saying that he had to stay behind for questioning. Of course, they still hadn't gotten around to that, instead insisting that a paramedic take a look at him. He'd hoped that they would find something wrong with him so that he could go to the hospital with Matt, but besides the scrape he had acquired when he'd been thrown into the table, they told him he was perfectly fine.

They were wrong, of course—he knew he wasn't 'fine.' Although his hysterics had long since quieted, he felt anything but 'fine.' Matt had almost died because of his stupidity. He'd been stupid to join the Mafia again; he'd been stupid to think that he could escape them once he had; and he was stupid to believe that he and Matt could ever have a normal life together.

But he wasn't sure that he wanted normal. Certainly something a bit less life threatening than being held captive by the Mafia would be nice, but normal had never really held much significance in either of their lives.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and looked down at the cell phone in his hand, having just gotten off the phone with Amy. Only after the paramedic had given him a clean bill of health had they let him call her to tell her to go to the hospital so that someone was there when Matt woke up. He hadn't told her much, though she had pressed him for details. The most important thing was that she remembered to tell Matt that he was sorry and that he'd explain everything as soon as the police let him go.

He sighed, left with nothing to do except mull over his thoughts until they were ready to take him in for questioning. He didn't know how long that would be as it had seemed to take forever for all of the Mafia to be arrested and taken away, and they were just now getting to the women, charging them with prostitution. To them, he was low priority; he could wait until the sudden influx of arrestees had been processed.

His head snapped up, scanning the area for Holly. He couldn't let her get arrested, not after she had saved Matt's life. It had been her unbelievable show of bravery that had threw off the Mafia boss's aim, causing him to hit Matt's shoulder rather than his heart.

Not seeing her, he jumped out the open doors on the back of the ambulance, the paramedic saying something in protest, but he paid him no attention. "Excuse me," he said running up to the nearest police officer. "There was a girl in there with shoulder length dark brown hair named Holly. She's innocent," he said simply. The policewoman only gave him a look that suggested she was skeptical. "Please. She saved someone's life," he pleaded.

"Alright," she sighed, "I think I know who you're talking about." She led him to one of the police cars. She opened the door and looked in. "You. Someone's testifying on your behalf. You'll have to come in for questioning, but after that, you're free to go." With this, Holly stepped out of the car, and the handcuffs were removed from her thin wrists. She looked awful what with her hair in disarray and her makeup smeared down her face from crying, but he was happy to see her. "Go have the paramedic take a look at you while you wait," the officer said to her, pointing them both in the direction of the ambulance.

"Thank you so much," she said to Mello when the police officer was out of earshot, new tears forming in her eyes.

"It's the least I could do after you saved Matt's life," he told her as the paramedic disinfected the scrapes she had gotten on her bare upper back and shoulders when she was thrown to the floor.

"Matt's your boyfriend, right?" she asked him. He nodded slowly; it could have been fiancé had he said 'yes.' "Well, at least I know why you were so distracted," she said with a small, half-hearted laugh. He felt himself blush, remembering that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, looking over at him sheepishly, apparently having noticed his discomfort.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for," he sighed out. It was odd, sitting there, talking to her. He didn't blame her for the problems he'd had with Matt; it was his fault for even thinking that he could use sex with her as a distraction. It didn't matter that he'd decided not to go through with it. It had still been his decision.

But there was one thing that he didn't understand. "Why did you try to stop him? He would have killed you too if the police hadn't got here when they did." It didn't make sense. There had been nothing in it for her.

"Because you were the only one of them that was ever nice to me," she said, smiling at him. "Not that you're one of them," she added quickly, "I know that now."

"Yeah, I guess I'm not," he said with a small laugh. He didn't know how he had ever thought that rejoining the Mafia was something he could pull off, let alone what was right for him. "So what are you going to do now that you're free?" he asked, honestly interested in her wellbeing.

"Um…" She looked down at her hands, clearly embarrassed. "I don't know… I don't really have anywhere to go… I mean, I'm sure I'll figure something out…"

He watched her play with her hands nervously. She looked so young and had made a mistake that could have ruined her life and still might if she didn't have anywhere to go. She reminded Mello of himself when he'd left Whammy's, so young and naïve. "You can stay with us," he told her, making a snap decision.

"No, I-I don't need your pity. Really, I'll be fine," she said, looking at him with wide eyes, and he knew she didn't believe that any more than he did.

"You're right. You don't need my pity, but you do need a place to stay, and we have a perfectly good sleeper sofa that no one's using at the moment."

"But…won't Matt be angry?" she asked meekly.

He sighed, sure that at first, Matt would be. "You saved his life," he said, "He owes you. We both do. So you're welcome to stay with us. At least until you get back on your feet."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. It was a bit awkward for Mello, what with what he'd almost done with her. He felt better when she was once again sitting next to him rather than practically in his lap.

"So when this is over, we can go get you some, uh, real clothes," he said, noting that she was only wearing a strapless corset and a very short skirt, wondering if Amy might let her borrow some clothes, "and go visit Matt, mkay?" She nodded enthusiastically, positively beaming.

"We're ready to take you in for questioning." Mello turned to see the same officer he had talked to earlier standing nearby, looking impatient.

"Finally," Mello breathed out, not sure what the policewoman had to be impatient about; he had been the one who'd had to wait, not her. He hopped off the edge of the ambulance and turned back to Holly, offering her his hand to help her down. "Let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Now that this story is almost over, I'm becoming extremely sentimental about it. Only one more chapter and the epilogue to go... And while this is only an extension of 'Dreams,' with the end of 'Cinders' approaching, it feels like 'Dreams' is truly coming to a close. My first ever story almost truly over...

But what do you guys think? How will Matt react when he finds out Mello told Holly she could stay with them? What exactly was Mello's plan, and how did it lead to the events that happened in this chapter? Everything will be revealed in the next chapter, but until then, what do you guys think will happen?

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>RavenBlackRoses, Midnightkisses10, VampirePrinssess, Dooseob, death2society, TrickledFingers, ViKsAtA, Chase Mihael Keehl, and an anonymous reviewer


	22. Chapter 21: Fortunate

Excuses by Deas Vail

**Chapter 21: Fortunate**

Matt lay in the stiff hospital bed, waiting for visiting hours to begin, hoping that Mello would be there as soon as they did. He'd already eaten his breakfast—or picked over it at least, as it wasn't very good—and literally had nothing to do.

He wasn't sure what it would be like seeing Mello for the first time after what had happened nor was he even sure if he wanted to bring up the marriage proposal again. He understood why Mello would be hesitant to give an answer in a life of death situation; he'd certainly not planned to ask him like that, but he had panicked. Maybe it was for the best that Mello hadn't said 'yes.' There would be other times to bring it up, times which wouldn't be driven by fear.

He gave a heavy sigh and felt a dull pain in his side; the pain medication must have started to wear off. He pushed the call button for the nurse, not wanted a repeat of last night.

Sometime in the middle of the night he'd woken up, screaming in pain, disoriented and confused. The last thing he had remembered was standing in the Mafia hideout, waiting to be shot, and then suddenly he was in a dark room, every nerve in his right shoulder feeling as if it were on fire.

A nurse had come in, seeming awfully happy that he was awake which made him wonder how long he'd been out for, and administered more pain medication through his IV before telling him that a doctor would be in after a couple minutes to explain his condition.

He didn't know how much time had actually passed before the doctor came in, but it had seemed like forever as he sat there, writhing in pain. It had slowly ebbed away though, and by the time he had made his way into the room, it was at least tolerable.

The doctor had explained that he had been shot in the shoulder and that the bullet had shattered his right scapula, or shoulder blade. They had removed the bullet but had otherwise refrained from surgery. Apparently they could have tried to realign pieces of his scapula manually, but they would have had to cut through a lot of muscle, potentially causing more damage than it was worth.

The doctor had insisted that since the muscles around it would hold it in place, it should heal fine on its own and that although there was some nerve damage, it was very minimal. After six months of healing and physical therapy, his shoulder should have regained about 95% of its functions.

He felt lucky, not just because the doctor had said that it could have been much worse had the bullet went through more nerve tissue or if it had hit the joint, but because it was his right shoulder; he'd never been so glad to be left handed before in his life.

Unfortunately though, they had told him that he would have to stay another night as a precaution. Between the amount of blood he had lost, his shattered scapula, and the two fractured ribs he had acquired, they wanted to keep him under observation for 24 hours. In all honesty, he was surprised that they didn't want to keep him there longer, but as they really couldn't do anything for his ribs or shoulder besides prescribe pain medication, there wasn't any real need to.

Matt looked over at the clock on the wall as a nurse walked in; still another half an hour before visiting hours started. "How are you feeling today?" she asked him pleasantly.

"Bored," he replied simply, watching as a confused look appeared on her face.

"Um, I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do anything for that."

"No, but I'm hoping you can give me more pain medication; it's starting to wear off."

"That I can do," she said with a smile.

"Hey, uh, my friends who came by yesterday, did they say when they'd be coming back today?" he asked as she hooked the medication up to his IV. She'd told him that three people, two women and one man, had come by the day before to visit him. He assumed Mello and Amy had come, but he couldn't figure out who the other woman could be.

"No, they didn't, sir, but I'm sure they'll be around soon," she said, finishing her task. "There you go. Let me know if there's anything else I can get you," she added before leaving the room.

He looked over at the clock again. Not even five minutes had passed.

• • •

After nearly forty-five minutes of amusing himself by counting ceiling tiles and playing with the fabric of the sling his right arm was in, Matt heard the door open. He looked over to see Amy stick her head in the room.

"Hey!" she said with a huge grin, "How are you doing?"

"Pretty good considering the amount of pain killers I have in me," he said, happy to see her.

"Good," she said, entering the room, Mello and a girl that he didn't recognize with shoulder length dark brown hair following her. "They might as well make it worth your while staying here."

He watched as Mello came in and sat down in a chair next to his bed. He sat the bouquet of lavender he had brought with him on the bedside table and immediately took his hand, offering him a weak smile. It worried him, the way Mello was acting, holding his hand loosely as if he would break from the contact, but Amy interrupted his thoughts, holding up the large brown bag she had brought in with her. "Oh, and we brought you some decent food since I'm sure the food here sucks."

"Thanks," he told her and looked back to Mello who was staring down at their entwined fingers. "Mels," he said quietly, "It's okay. I'm fine."

"Matt, you almost died…" Mello said, giving him a look of disbelief.

"Right," he sighed, and looked away from Mello to the two girls in the room. He still had no idea who the one was, but that could wait. "Could you guys give us a minute? I want to talk to Mello alone."

"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever you need," Amy said, pulling the other girl towards the door, "We'll be out here if you need us." Once the door was shut behind her, Matt turned back to Mello.

"Remember when you were in the hospital, and I was freaking out, and you told me to shut up and that you were just happy to be alive?"

Mello only stared at him with a sad look in his eyes for a minute before finally responding, "…Yeah."

"Well, that's how I feel. I'm just happy that I'm alive and that you don't have to stay in the hospital like I do," he told Mello, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb gently, feeling each vein he went over with familiarity.

"Yeah," Mello said, nodding slowly, "I guess, but I'm the one who should be in the hospital, not you. This is-"

"No, don't you dare say this is your fault. I don't want to hear that, and I don't want you to blame yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, and besides, as long as we're both alive, everything's alright." With these words, Mello gave him the first honest smile that he'd seen all on his face since he had came in.

"Fine. You're right," he sighed dramatically. "Yes, I'm admitting that you're right and I'm wrong. That's two times in one week, better mark it on the calendar," he said jokingly.

"Wow, are you sure _you're_ feeling alright, Mello?" he asked with a laugh, and as he saw the happiness written across Mello's face, the honest joy he took in just being there with him, he knew what he had to do.

"Yeah, Matt, I'm pretty sure I've never felt better," he said, chuckling lightly, but when he saw the serious look on Matt's face, he stopped, appearing worried, "Matt?"

"Mels, I have to ask you something," he started, feeling his heart beat erratically in his chest. He hadn't been this nervous to say it when they were in the Mafia hideout, although he supposed he'd had more than enough to distract him from his apprehension at the time. Unfortunately, the heart monitor clearly pointed out his quickened heart rate which did nothing to calm his nerves. "I know why you couldn't say 'yes' when I asked you yesterday, and I don't want you thinking I'm just throwing out crazy things because of the pain medication; I know what I'm saying. I've actually been thinking about this for a while, and I was wondering if you would do me the honor of being my husband."

Matt started to grow worried when Mello didn't respond right away, instead looking right past him and out the window. He didn't dare say anything, only waiting for Mello to respond which seemed to take way too long.

"Matt…" he said eventually, "there's something you should know…" He looked back to Matt who sat with a concerned expression on his face. "I don't know if you remember or even saw, but that girl who came in with Amy and me…she saved your life. She kind of…jumped on the Mafia boss which threw off his aim."

"Okay," Matt said when Mello paused. He was grateful that she'd done what she had, and he'd have to thank her, but he wasn't sure what this had to do with them getting married.

"Well…she was going to be arrested…because she was one of the girls with the Mafia, and I couldn't let that happen, not after she'd saved your life. So I told one of the police officers that she was innocent and got them to release her…" He stopped, looking at Matt apologetically.

"Okay, why are you acting like I should be angry at you? I'm glad you did that; I owe her my life."

"Right, which is why I told her she could stay with us. Just until she gets back on her feet," he added quickly.

"Oh…" He wasn't sure how he felt about this. Although he felt indebted to her, he didn't even know her, and it sounded like Mello didn't know her very well either.

"Before you get mad," Mello continued, "she's actually a really sweet girl, and the only reason she got involved with the Mafia was because she had no way of supporting herself after her parents died. She's barely seventeen, Matt. When she said she didn't have any place to go, I had to offer her somewhere to stay; she would have just ended up in a similar position if I didn't."

"So what you're saying is you told a teenage prostitute that she could stay with us without asking me?" He was starting to see why Mello might think he'd get mad.

"Yeah…kinda…and…" He looked at Matt, seeming as though he was having a difficult time getting the words out."

"And?"

"And she was the girl I almost slept with," Mello managed, blurting the words out. Matt didn't know what to say. This is not at all what he'd expected to hear, and he didn't know exactly how to take it. "Matt?" Mello ventured cautiously, "I'm really sorry. For everything. But just give her a chance. She's not as bad as you probably think. And you said yourself that you owe her your life, so…"

Matt could only stare at him, trying to process the information that had been thrown at him. He had said that he owed her his life, and it was no less true then than it was a few minutes ago when he'd said it, but that didn't mean he wanted her living with them, not after what had happened between her and Mello.

"Mattie?" Mello tried again, but Matt didn't want to hear anymore. He had all the information he needed; he just had to decide what to do with it.

"No, just…just give me a second, okay?" he told him, his brow furrowing in thought. He knew that Mello regretted everything that had happened with the Mafia, almost sleeping with one of the girls there included, and he knew that Mello wanted to be with him, so he didn't really think that he would be the problem. The problem was that he didn't trust this girl.

Even if she'd had no previous relations with Mello, Matt didn't know her. For that matter, he didn't even know her name as she hadn't said anything when she'd come in and Mello hadn't mentioned it.

But just because he didn't know her didn't mean that she was a bad person. It was very possible that she'd told Mello the truth about herself, and that it had only been unfortunate circumstances which had led her to her position with the Mafia. After all, no one could really _want_ to be essentially held captive by the Mafia to entertain such vile men, could they? No doubt only utter desperation could lead to such a thing.

Matt gave a heavy sigh and looked up to meet Mello's eyes. "Fine. She can stay with us. I mean, I do owe her my life, and if she has nowhere else to go…"

Any worry that had clouded Mello's features cleared away, replaced by a smile. "Thank you…" he said simply.

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" he asked gently, hoping that Mello would finally give him a response to his proposal. Although he was of course looking for an affirmative answer, he found that he didn't really care so much either way. They had time, and if Mello wasn't ready yet, that was fine with him. He would wait however long he had to.

Mello seemed to think something over for a minute and then finally looked back to Matt and said "Yes."

Matt waited for him to continue, but he never did. "Uh, alright… What is it?" he prompted.

"Yes. As in, yes, I'd love to marry you." Matt could only stare for a moment, slightly stunned. After receiving a 'no' yesterday and then Mello changing the subject when he'd asked again, he'd expected something along the lines of 'Matt, it's too early. We only just got back together. Let's wait.'

"Really?" he finally got out, gaping at Mello slightly.

"Well, yeah," he returned as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Why wouldn't I say yes?"

Matt shook his head slowly. He didn't know how to answer that. "Come here," he said instead, tugging at Mello's hand. When Mello leaned over, Matt abandoned his hand to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down so that their lips met. "I love you, Mels," he whispered, his lips ghosting over Mello's, "More than anything."

Mello sat back down next to the hospital bed, taking Matt's hand again and kissing the back of it, giving him a soft smile that told him that he felt the same way. "How long have you been thinking about asking me?" he inquired, a look of wonder on his face.

"Well," he started, feeling a blush creep up into his cheeks, "I'm not really sure when I first thought about it, but a couple days ago when we were talking about moving back to Biei, that's when I knew I had to ask you."

"Matt, that was two days ago," he said incredulously, seemingly surprised by the short time.

"Yeah…I was planning on waiting a little while to bring it up, but then, well… I didn't want to die with you not knowing how I felt." Matt was slightly fearful that Mello might be upset about it being a snap decision, but when he nodded and smiled at him, that fear faded away.

"I'm glad you didn't decide to wait," he said, looking at Matt with admiration.

"So am I." And he was. Very rarely did things seem to go as planned for them, but in the end, it hadn't mattered. He didn't care what path life took him down as long as it led back to Mello.

Matt would have been happy to just sit in the room with Mello, marveling over the fact that, at that very moment, they were engaged to be married, but something crossed his mind: he still had no idea how he and Mello had made it out alive. "How'd you do it?" he asked, "How'd you get us out of there?"

Mello let out a short laugh. "To be honest, I'm surprised that wasn't the first thing you asked me."

"I had more important things on my mind," he said with a smile. "So?" he prompted, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Well, when they called me—on your phone, by the way. You're never leaving the apartment without your phone again," he started, interrupting himself and giving Matt a look which told him that he was completely serious.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Matt said, feeling as though he would never forget it again.

"Anyway, they told me they were holding you hostage, I did the only thing I could think of: I swallowed my pride and called Near."

"You…called Near?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Willingly?"

"Wow, Matt, don't act so surprised," he returned, his tone flat. "It wasn't like I had any other choice. It was either that or sign both of our death sentences. How did you get Near's number anyway?"

"Remember when he visited last year right after you came home from the hospital?" Mello nodded, and he continued. "Well, you know that while you were still upstairs I asked him if he would pay the hospital bill, but after he agreed, he gave me a number he said I could always reach him at if we needed anymore help. Really, he's not as heartless as you think."

"Yeah, I guess…" Mello said reluctantly. "He did agree to help when I called him…sort of. He was all 'I'm sorry, Mello, but I'm in France right now, and my LA forces are currently on an assignment. I'll contact them and inform them that they're needed elsewhere, but I'm not sure how quickly they'll be able to get there. Try to hold out until then,'" he said, mocking Near's stoic tone, rolling his eyes at the end.

"Yeah, well maybe we can stick him with the hospital bill again if that makes you feel any better," Matt offered, laughing at how agitated Mello got just talking about his old rival.

"It might help a little…" Mello grumbled.

"I can think of something that would take your mind off of it," Matt said suggestively. "Besides, we need to celebrate getting engaged, right?" He was somewhat taken aback when Mello let out a loud laugh. Not quite the response he'd been expecting.

"Mattie, I'd love to, but, for one, we're in a hospital; there are probably cameras in here," he said with an amused look on his face.

"I didn't mean right _now_."

"Even so, you have two broken ribs and won't even be able to move your shoulder for months. I'm sure we'll think of something, but I'm not going to do anything that would just end up hurting you."

"Right, well, you get back to me on that," Matt said sarcastically, a few things already coming to mind.

But that posed another problem. If they were going to have someone else living with them, they'd have to learn to be more discrete than they'd grown accustomed to. That reminded him: Amy and the other girl were still waiting out in the hall. He felt bad for making them stand out there for so long.

He sighed, trying to prepare himself. "I'm ready to meet her," he told Mello who looked confused for a moment but then nodded and slowly got up.

"Hey, guys," he said, sticking his head out the door, "You can come back in now if you want." Amy quickly appeared with a look of impatience on her features, walking past Mello who was holding open the door for them, and he knew that she must have been wondering what had taken so long. He dismissed her though when he saw the younger girl walk in after her.

He hadn't paid much attention to her earlier, but now he looked at the girl who would be living with them with interest. She looked so frail and nervous, although he supposed the first could have had something to do with the clothes that she was wearing which were clearly a size too big. Actually, as he watched her walk through the room to stand meekly behind Amy, he was pretty sure he recognized the shirt she was wearing as Amy's.

"Holly," Mello said after closing the door and taking a seat at the foot of Matt's bed. She cautiously took a step forward, coming back into full view. "I want you to meet my fiancé, Matt." She smiled at him and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Amy.

"_Fiancé_?" she squealed, "When did this happen? Who asked who? Details! Tell me what happened! Oh my God! Can I plan the wedding?"

"Amy. Calm. Down," Matt told her, emphasizing each word separately. "Wait your turn." He felt as though he was dealing with a small child rather than someone who was, in reality, only a year younger than him.

She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a small huff as she flopped down into the chair Mello had been sitting in earlier, but it seemed as though she was going to wait, however impatiently. He looked back to Holly, waiting for her to continue.

"Uh…" she started, blushing when she realized everyone in the room was looking at her. "It's nice to meet you," she said quietly and hesitantly held out her hand for him to shake before quickly retracting it, apparently realizing it would be awfully difficult for him to shake her hand with is right arm in a sling.

The way she acted surprised him. When Mello had explained who she was, he'd expected her to be very forward if not crass, but she wasn't like that at all. Maybe her coming to live with them wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Yeah," he said, offering her a reassuring smile, "Nice to meet you too." He was glad to see that it seemed to put her a little bit more at ease.

"Now?" Amy said, and Matt looked over at her and let out a laugh. It appeared as though she was about ready to burst from anticipation.

"Fine," he sighed out as if it was a big deal for him to tell her, which of course it wasn't. He didn't mind at all. He would have been more than happy to tell her, but as he hadn't eaten much of his breakfast, that bag of food that Amy had brought in was starting to look pretty good. "But could you hand me that first?" he said, pointing to the bag. With the large brown paper bag in his lap, rummaging through it, he turned to Mello. "Why don't you tell them?"

As he listened to Mello explain, he couldn't help but be amazed, looking around the room at the strange little family he had somehow managed to pick up along the way. His coworker turned friend, the girl who had save his life, and his fiancé; he felt grateful for each one of them. Even though he had not escaped without his fair share of injuries, Matt felt as though he was the luckiest man in the world just to have each of these three people in his life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I can't believe how many people expressed how sad they were that this story is almost over. Really, when I first started 'Cinders,' I was worried no one would want to read it because over half of it was, well, not very happy or fluffy. But all your reviews saying that you didn't want me to end it made me consider doing a third story in the series. I actually even started to get a few ideas for a plot…but I can't do a third.

The reason I wrote a sequel to 'Dreams' was because I felt the way I left Matt and Mello's relationship wasn't stable enough to just continue on, more or less happily; if I wouldn't have done a sequel, I would have felt that I left the story unfinished. Now though, I'm content letting them alone to live their new life together. I know it sounds a bit weird, but I feel like they don't need me to continue their story anymore, that they can manage on their own. So as heartbreaking as it is for me to say, after the epilogue next week, there will be no more.

Of course I will continue to write, and I hope to see many of you continue to read my stories. I've actually already started working on _Neon Hearts_ again, and in a few short weeks, it will officially be brought out of hiatus. I can only hope that it will live up to my expectations after the two part, almost year and a half run of my first story.

**A special thanks to the following reviewers:  
><strong>Midnightkisses10, somebodykillme, RavenBlackRoses, Chase Mihael Keehl, VampirePrinssess, Cassandra106, death2society, Dooseob, ViKsAtA


	23. Epilogue: New Beginnings

**Author's Note:** There are two things you should note before you start reading:  
>1. Unlike the other chapters, the POV switches from Mello's to Matt's at the scene break.<br>2. This is written under the assumption that the repeal of Proposition 8 is passed in California's November 2012 election. I've included a brief overview in my author's note at the bottom of this page on the legislation relevant to the events I've written about here if you are not familiar with Prop 8 and/or want more information to better understand the conditions of Mello and Matt's marriage.

* * *

><p>Mello: I Must Be Dreaming by The Maine<br>Matt: Heartlines by Florence + The Machine

**Epilogue: New Beginnings**

"Hurry up, you two!" Amy called impatiently from the living room, "You're going to be late for your own wedding!" Mello ignored her. Just because they were supposed to have been at the church ten minutes ago didn't mean that they were going to be late for the actual ceremony.

"I can't figure out this stupid bowtie!" he heard Matt call angrily from the bathroom, so he took one last look at himself in the mirror before leaving the bedroom and going to help him.

"I told you that you should have just went with a normal tie," Mello gently chided when he saw the state Matt was in. He stood there with a panicked look on his face as Amy tried to get a knot out of the tie, his hair as messy as ever with his shirt only half tucked in and only one shoe on; the jacket to his suit was nowhere in sight. "How the hell did you manage to get a knot in it?"

"I don't know," Matt said, looking almost pitiful, "but now it's stuck on my neck like this."

"Hold on, I've almost got it," Amy said, still picking at the knot with her nails. "There, good as new!" she proclaimed. "It's not tied, but at least the knot's out."

"Here, let me try," Mello offered and waited for Amy to step out of the small bathroom so that there was enough room for him to go in. "Are you and Holly ready to go?" he asked as he tried to remember what the step-by-step guide he'd looked up the day before had said. Although he had opted to go with a standard necktie, he'd felt it was a good idea to look up how to tie a bowtie as he had known something like this would end up happening.

"Of course we're ready. We've _been_ ready," she said, standing in the doorway in her light purple dress, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, how much longer do you guys think you're going to be?" Holly asked, appearing in the doorway next to Amy in her identical lavender colored dress. "Someone at the church just called and wants to know how long we're going to be."

"I don't know. Just…just everyone out!" Mello yelled, his nerves getting the better of him, but Matt was the only one who made to leave. "No, not you," he said, tugging at Matt's still as of yet untied bowtie. "You two," he almost growled, pointing at Amy and Holly accusingly, "Out! Give us a minute."

"Jeez, calm down," Amy said defensively. "Fine. We'll be in the living room if you need us."

"Mels…are you okay?" Matt asked him after the girls had left.

"I'm fine," he shot back, still struggling with the bowtie.

"You don't sound fine," he continued, seeming worried. "It's okay, you know. They can't exactly start without us. It's our wedding."

"I know," he said, making an effort to sound less tense than he actually felt. He knew that he shouldn't be nervous, but he was nonetheless. Two years after they had gotten engaged, it was finally happening; they were finally getting married.

Originally, they had wanted to get married the previous summer, but after some research, they found that, although California had performed same-sex marriages in the past, a piece of legislation known as Proposition 8 had put a stop to that. Instead, exactly one year ago, they entered into a domestic partnership as the state allowed.

They had ultimately decided to stay in California another year to see Holly graduate from high school. Despite the fact that her staying with them was supposed to have been temporary, she was still living there, and Mello was glad to have her. And although it had taken a little while for Matt to really warm up to her, Mello knew that he was happy to have her there as well. In fact, it had been his idea to have her and Amy stand at the front of the church with them at the ceremony.

In the meantime, a new initiative had appeared on the ballot which would repeal Prop 8 and had been passed in the November 2012 election. With that roadblock out of the way, they had decided to officially get married.

At the time, Mello had been excited; now, apprehensive would be putting it lightly. He didn't know why he was so nervous—it's not like making their marriage official would really change anything—but that didn't make him any less anxious.

"There," he said, finally getting the bowtie right, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Mello, what's wrong?" Matt tried again, tucking in his shirt the rest of the way and slipping on his other shoe.

"Nothing," he insisted, "Where's your jacket?"

"Do you really think I wouldn't be able to tell? I know you too well for that," Matt said gently, taking Mello's hands in his own. "Now what's wrong?"

"I don't know. I'm just nervous, I guess. I know it's stupid…"

"No, it's not. You have every right to be nervous. So am I," Matt admitted, "but it's okay because in an hour, I'll be married to the most wonderful person in the world." Mello couldn't help but smile at Matt's words. They really had helped to ease his nerves a bit.

"Actually, you're wrong," he corrected, pulling Matt closer to him, "because I already have that honor." He kissed Matt softly at first and then more passionately, his tongue snaking into his mouth when Matt was all too willing. Mello's fingers tangled in Matt's hair, deciding that since it was still messy anyway, he wouldn't be hurting anything. Just as he felt Matt's hand move to the fly of his pants, he heard something that brought him back to reality.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be getting ready!" Amy yelled at them.

"Look at it this way, Amy," Mello said, turning to see her fuming just outside the door, "we're practicing for the wedding. It's supposed to be the most perfect kiss of our life or something like that, right?"

"Sure, but I don't wanna see any clothes coming off at the wedding. Save that for the honeymoon." With this, Matt removed his hand from the front of Mello's pants and took a step away from him, blushing wildly.

"Did you need something or did you just come in here to interrupt us?" Mello asked her, more than a bit perturbed. This was their wedding after all, not hers.

"Yeah, actually, I do need something. I need you to be ready. _Now_. The ceremony is supposed to start in half an hour, and we aren't even at the church."

"No it's-" he started, looking up at the clock above the door. "Oh…shit."

• • •

"Congratulations," Near said, a small smile actually finding its way to his lips.

"Thanks," Matt said, elbowing Mello in the ribs lightly.

"Oh, uh…yeah, thanks," he said, sounding not at all sincere. Matt supposed it was something at the very least. When he'd brought it up, he didn't even think Mello would agree to invite Near, let alone be civil towards him at their reception.

"I wanted to give you this," Near continued, his features returning to their standard apathy. He held out a plain white envelope with "Misters Keehl-Jeevas" written on the front in black lettering.

Matt smiled down at the envelope, strangely happy to see their names presented as such. They'd changed their names a year ago when they had entered into the domestic partnership, but for some reason, it felt different now that they were actually married.

He turned the envelope over in his hands, slipping a finger under the flap and pulling it open. Inside he found a check for $100,000. "We can't accept this," Matt said when he recovered from his shock.

"Of course we can," Mello interjected, taking the envelope and check out of Matt's hands and shoving them into his pocket.

"It's too much. You've already done so much for us…" Matt said to Near, ignoring what Mello had done.

"And we thank you for that," Mello added, a huge grin on his face, though it still didn't quite sound sincere.

"It's fine," Near said, "It's my understanding that you're forgoing a honeymoon in order to return to your house in Japan. This way you'll have enough for both."

"It's more than enough for a honeymoon…" It was true that between the wedding and moving back, they didn't have enough money left for an actual honeymoon, but they had decided to consider returning to Hokkaido as their honeymoon, and Matt had been more than happy with that.

"Don't be ridiculous. Take it. I insist. It doesn't all have to be for the honeymoon. You can use it for whatever you need," Near said, and Matt nodded.

"Thank you," he said, finally deciding to take the all too generous gift.

"You're welcome. I-"

"You must be Near," Amy said, coming up behind them. "Nice to meet you!"

"Yes…nice to meet you too," he returned though he sounded rather annoyed to have been interrupted. "But as I was about to say, I should be going now. It appears as though I may have overstayed my welcome."

"Of course not," Amy said sincerely although everyone else had already left save for her and Holly.

"No, really, you probably want to get ready for your flight. It was nice to see you again," he said to Matt and Mello, completely ignoring Amy, and started for the door, Gevanni and Rester following behind him.

"Bye," Matt called after them to which Gevanni waved back.

"You know, I got the impression that he didn't like me," Amy said, sounding disappointed.

"That's okay. I don't think he likes anyone," Mello offered.

"Yeah, but still," Amy pouted before sighing and a sad smile coming to her lips. "Oh well. But he was right; you guys should get going if you don't wanna miss your flight." Matt nodded, a sadness sweeping over him.

"Holly, get over here!" Amy called over her shoulder, "We can finish cleaning later." Holly came running over in her bare feet, her high heels having been abandoned hours ago.

"Are you leaving?" she asked.

"Yeah, we should get going. Don't want to miss our flight," Mello answered, sadness in his voice.

"You don't have to go," she said quietly, her eyes pleading.

Matt looked over to Mello. They'd discussed it, staying in California, but had ultimately decided against it. He'd be lying if he said he wouldn't miss it, but they couldn't stay there.

"Yeah, we do," Matt told her regretfully, "but we'll visit."

"We promise," Mello added, and suddenly Holly had them both wrapped in a hug.

"Group hug!" Amy proclaimed loudly, throwing herself into it.

It was surreal, saying good bye to them. It almost felt like they were only going on a short trip and would be back in a few days. Matt supposed it was better that way; he didn't want it to feel like he'd never see Amy or Holly again.

After almost ten minutes of 'good bye's and having to repeatedly promise that they would use some of the money Near had given them to come back and visit, they couldn't prolong it any longer. It was time to leave.

When Matt had arrived in Los Angeles, he'd wanted to find Mello and get out as soon as he could, but somehow that had all changed. Over the past two years, he'd grown quite attached to the city and the people there, Mello, Amy, and Holly forming the closest thing to a family he'd known in many years. Now that it was finally time to leave, he found that he wasn't quite so eager to anymore.

But leaving meant returning to the house Matt still considered to be their home and the fields of lavender. Leaving meant returning to the place where they had fallen in love.

"Let's go," Matt said, taking Mello's hand.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **In my author's note at the end of "Dreams," I spent a lot of time rambling about how proud I was of how my first ever story turned out. Although this is no less true of this story, I'd like to take a moment to speak on a much more important subject.

The issue of same-sex marriage has been a back and forth struggle in California though "domestic partnerships" have been legally recognized since 1999. When it was initially enacted, this act granted very few privileges but has since been expanded to include all the rights and responsibilities common to marriage.

In 2008, Proposition 8 passed by a narrow margin in California, restricting the recognition of marriage to heterosexual couples. However, the activist group _Love Honor Cherish_ has recently started gathering signatures for a new initiative to repeal Prop 8. They have until May 14, 2012 to gather the required number of signatures for their initiative to qualify for the November 2012 ballot. If the repeal does pass, which I sincerely hope it does, it is likely that it will take effect January 1, 2013.

If/When you are of voting age, I implore you to take action and vote for equality if the issue of same-sex marriage appears on your state or country's ballot. Even though unions such as California's "domestic partnership" are legally equal to marriage, such mentality promotes a similar ideology to the "separate but equal" laws employed during the Jim Crow era of the United States. If such unions were actually equal to marriage, we wouldn't have to think of another name for them; it would simply be called "marriage."

Thank you to anyone who took the time to read my little politically centered rant, and thank you to everyone who has read and supported this story. I'm immensely grateful to all of you readers as you have helped make this story a success as well as my wonderful beta, foreverunloved. I hope to see you all again next week when I bring _Neon Hearts_ out of hiatus.

With much love,  
>Amour en Rayures<p>

**A special thanks to the following as well as any future reviewers:  
><strong>Midnightkisses10, Chase Mihael Keehl, brightnight003, RavenBlackRoses, VampirePrinssess, and an anonymous reviewer


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